#wiped!sol

The Asset - The Winter Solstice - is led down the dark, concrete hallways of the base. It is led by a few agents - acting as guards, to ensure it doesn’t start getting ideas of disobedience - to its cell.

A cold, small room with no furniture, gray on gray, a tiny square box of concrete. It’s not airtight, it has vents, but everything else would point to the contrary, with no windows, a concrete door with only two airtight slots at the top and bottom for food and to look at the Asset. A person could likely go insane if kept inside alone for too long… it’s a good thing the Asset isn’t a person (at least, that’s what the Trainers and Handlers and Technicians had always said), then.

It stays there for a few hours, to recover from the twitchyness and residual electricity and pain of The Chair (it probably definitely deserved it. The Handlers and Technicians and Higher Ups don’t give it the chair without reason. The chair is for corrections. It needs to be better next time), curled into a tight ball of twitching and burning in the corner, one side of its face facing the - locked - door that opens to its cell, the other pressed to the cold concrete of the wall. It closes its eyes tight.

It hears the creak as the lock turns in the heavy door, opening the eye that’s facing the door to observe it with a cold, impassive gaze. This means it will either be taken in for training, maintenance, a mission (unlikely, so soon after the chair… it wouldn’t be nearly as efficient an Asset if it were to go on a mission now), to meet its new handler, or to the lab for research. It hopes it’s not supposed to hope it doesn’t like it’s not supposed to like or dislike maintenance and the lab tend to be the most painful, for the Asset.

Its shoulders tense, and it drops into a crawl/crouch (a sort of skulk), metal hands on the floor with the metal claws almost digging into the ground, ready to pounce or leap to its feet, tension in its limbs, eyes narrowed, like a cat about to pounce. Just… in case it’s an intruder, not because it would ever try to fight any HYDRA agents.

The heavy door opens with a creak of metal, a scraping sound.

“зима.” comes a voice from behind them. Their limbs lock up, eyes widen, and dread pools in their stomach like blood after an internal wound. A man comes into their vision, black tac gear with a red HYDRA logo on the right shoulder.

He smirks smugly at them, looking like the cat that got the canary, and they long to rip off his face, rip out his throat and jugular with just their teeth. That’d make it hurt. “Hello again, Winter Solstice.” He pats them on their head patronizingly.

Once the locked up limbs are allowed to move again, they leap at him with their claws outstretched. He immediately repeats the word and they freeze again, this time falling to the floor with a thud, since they had been in the middle of motion when it happened again.

They feel tears building up in their eyes. They couldn’t do this again. They’d be forced to kill people again, be forced to do HYDRA’s dirty work. They’d be wiped, everything they had worked for would be gone. Who would take care of Everest?

The man decided he didn’t want to risk death by tormenting them, again. Sighing. “Well, sorry about this-“ no he wasn’t. “-but it’s time to go home.”

All they can do now is squeeze their eyes shut as the words - the words engrained in their bones, their brain, their very being, the words they know so well yet are so alien - are said.

“зима” their limbs lock up more than they had already been, somehow. Dread slams into them, and if they weren’t locked up, they’d be trembling.

“наследник” they squeeze their eyes tighter. They can’t do this again. They would sooner die. If they weren’t frozen where they were, they’d be begging for it to stop. For him to stop. For mercy, maybe.

“клинок” not again, please. They couldn’t be that mindless weapon again. This was all their fault. The blood on their hands was their fault. They let this happen.

“восход” nonononononono. No. No.

“солнцестояние” everything shifts. Their mind goes blank, limbs going limp. The world becomes background noise. Their body is a vague view below, a speck against the nothingness, something they were hardly aware of.

———————————————————————

The familiar sensation of their body moving on autopilot that isn’t really autopilot comes quick. A puppet pulled on strings as the agent gives them commands.

They’re internally screaming against it. They need to get out of here, they can’t lose this easily. They can’t do this all again.

“Go to these coordinates.” A slip of paper, folded and gently stored in one of many pockets among their tactical gear. “Don’t be seen by civilians, and if you are, eliminate the witnesses.”

Words that reverberate inside their skull.

———————————————————————

The next couple hours are them watching themself, feeling like they’re floating away from their body.

They listen to their new handler, taking down anyone that sees them as they make their way to the coordinates they were given. Adults, children, it didn’t matter. Not to The Winter Solstice.

———————————————————————

When their mind allows them back into their body again, the familiar sensation of metal holding them immediately caught their attention. They jerked their arms up, to no avail, eyes flying open in alarm.

No. No. No. they need to wake up. This had to be some cruel nightmare that had clawed itself into their mind. Something from the darkest recesses of their mind.

Technicians, handlers, scientists. They all stare at them as they struggle, as they cry (when had that started), as guttural screeches that sounded like a creature caught in a trap rip themselves from their throat.

They hear the quiet whir of The Chair, something that they never thought they’d hear again, something that sounded just before they awoke from The Nightmares that occurred on particularly bad nights.

But they didn’t wake up. Not this time. It was real, despite their feverish hopes and cries. They had few seconds before It would happen.

Deviations:

Personality - their memories have been wiped, since after their recapture they were wiped by The Chair. They are more hostile to people outside of HYDRA. They are more pliable to agents/highly ranked people in HYDRA. They are friendlier to other assets, unless they are told to fight them for training.

New Lore:

They were recaptured by a HYDRA agent, who first used their codewords to get them to come back to a HYDRA base without a fight. They were taken to and wiped by The Chair, and are back to being completely (or at least mostly) loyal to HYDRA. They don’t remember the friends they made outside of HYDRA, only remembering some of their days at HYDRA and their training.

Open RPs:

HYDRA Homecoming

Lore Posts:

Recapture