#agentmeadows

(Not sure which one you were thinking of, but I'm guessing it was probably Fred, so I'll put him first)

Raven:

26: Yes. He was born to human parents, awakened as an Avatar of Raven (adding the animal *grin*) a couple decades ago, then had his apotheosis just a year ago. (To say that he's been through some changes is an understatement.)

27: As a human, he's a native American English speaker, speaks British English (1920s Midlands/London specifically) passably, is fluent in German, Latin, and Greek and knows enough Russian and Japanese to read technical journals. As a god, he cheats and knows them all. But that's not nearly as much fun as learning them the old-fashioned way.

28: Like? That's like asking if he likes coffee. Every Friday night is anime night in his house, and David almost always has new stuff on tap. Friends are always welcome.

Faern'ya:

26: Drow

27: Drow, Undercommon, Dwarven, Duergar, Elven, Common/English (And with a chance to cast a spell, she can speak whatever language is spoken by whoever she's talking with, but that only lasts as long as the spell.)

28: What's an anime? That's not in my Common dictionary.

Jim Cole (AKA: Prissy):

26: Half Ogre/Half Human

27: American English, the Ogrish dialect of Jotnar, enough French and Spanish to get buy if he has to take a load into Quebec or Mexico.

28: Some. Mostly Miyazaki's stuff, because it's good for Bindi to see kids like the ones in his work and know she can be just as strong and brave.

Agent Meadows:

26: Human

27: American English, German, some Spanish and French, is currently learning Drow (under the assumption it'll be useful if he wants to communicate with someone and not be understood by anyone else)

"I'll be at the forge, Simmons," Meadows said. Agent Simmons looked up from her work and nodded, accepting the hand-off. That was one of the things Meadows liked about working for SHIELD. Everyone was professional enough to be a pleasure to work with. Even something as basic as handing off the office to another agent when he needed to be elsewhere was uncomplicated and reliable. Meadows made sure his badge holder was in place, his badge visible to anyone he passed, and made his way to the engineering section.

 ======

Faern'ya had taken over a corner of the motor pool and converted a barbecue grill one of the caretaker staff had left behind into a forge, and a length of I-beam into an anvil, and had set herself up a smithy. Luckily, for the sake of the dress she had been wearing before they had evacuated to this site, supply had been well stocked with uniforms and issue underwear. Apparently, someone had considered sports bras to be a more practical issue for SHIELD agents than the usual variety - a discovery that had produced a good amount of cheer among the female agents with field experience - and now Faern'ya spent whatever time she wasn't with the Commander at her forge, in BDU pants and sports bra, hammering steel. The area around her forge had become an unofficial gathering place, especially after she had repaired a couple agents' knives.

Meadows scanned the group around the forge, found Woods, and made his way to his side. Woods stood to attention, and Meadows shook his head. The stereo Faern'ya always had playing at the forge was currently blasting out R.E.M.'s "It's the End of the World As We Know It". Meadows opened his mouth to send Woods back to the office, then stopped, looking at the stereo.

"Faern'ya?" Meadows called. "Where'd you get the music you're playing?"

"Agent Meadows!" Faern'ya called back. "Hi! What do you think?" She lifted her project, a scythe with steel bands running down the sides of the shaft, a reinforced grip that folded against the shaft about half-way down, and a blade made of steel scraps he had watched her braid and hammer-weld into a pattern that looked a lot like the blade of a Viking sword. "It's finally ready for me to start enchanting."

"Nice," Meadows said, nodding at the scythe. "Faern'ya, where did you get the music you're playing?"

"That?" Faern'ya asked, and turned down the volume. "Agent Chadwick loaned me the stereo and showed me how to use something on one of the office computers to get music for it. It's called iTunes."

"Shit," Meadows hissed softly. "How long have you been using it?"

"Shit?" Faern'ya asked, "About three weeks, why?"

"Remember how the Commander took all of our electronics at the evacuation site?" Meadows asked.

"Of course," Faern'ya said. "She was worried they could broadcast our location, just like the radios."

"So can computers," Meadows said. "We don't know who's in control of the routers SHIELD used to control access to the internet."

"You mean the music I have didn't come from a library in the base?" Faern'ya asked, a horrified look on her face.

So, Agent Meadows is certain that one of his team of analysts has broken the security of their secret facility by accessing a newspaper website.

What he doesn't know is that unless their facility has its own internal MP3 database, people have been violating security for weeks, downloading songs.

Just goes to show that it doesn't require an infiltrator to expose you - just a lack of thought while doing things you wouldn't even NEED to think about under normal circumstances.

"Want to tell me about it?" Agent Meadows asked.

"S-sorry, sir. I, I got ... " Agent Woods paused, blew his nose, and looked up. "I was monitoring Agent Green. She'd gone into hiding in Detroit, and had used one of the old emergency call-ins for extraction. That was yesterday. Today, there was an obituary for her in the Detroit Free Press."

"You knew her?" Meadows asked.

"No, sir. No idea even who she is," Woods admitted. "I just ... here we are, hiding out in safety, while we have agents out there - good agents, friends, even - being hunted down like dogs. What good are we doing?"

"Trust the Commander, Joe," Meadows said gently. "You've seen her in action, when she thought there was even a ghost of a chance she could do some good. Every bit of intel we send her is more intel she can use to formulate plans. Plans that might just save the life of an agent we haven't even met yet."

"You're right," Woods said, looking down at his computer. "I just ... I feel so helpless."

"I know," Meadows said. "It's the worst part about being in Analysis. But you know how it feels when your reports contribute to a successful operation."

"Yeah," Woods said. "I know. It's just - feeling kind of far away right now."

"Get some coffee," Meadows said. "Maybe go talk to Faern'ya. She should be in her forge right now. Come back after you've cleared your head."

"Yes, sir," Woods said. "Thank you, sir."

Meadows nodded and returned to his desk. Curious about what had set Woods off, he brought up the records of his monitoring of Agent Green. Right off, it was obvious Green was a cover name. He didn't have enough information to work out who she was behind the cover, but it became clear very quickly that she was one of the loyal survivors. He let the communications flow over him, up to their termination with her call to one of the agency's old extraction numbers last night.

He couldn't confirm it, but he had his suspicions that Agent Wood's mourning was premature. He sat back in his chair while he thought about the problem. Couldn't go into ... wait. Had Woods said he had looked at the Detroit Free Press? He sat up and looked through Woods' terminal logs. Shit. He had. He reached for the phone, a grimace already on his face. They really did not need this. Not right now.