In the small motel room Sharon had checked into this morning, she slipped into the dress provided for me by S.W.O.R.D. It's probably the most risque number she's ever attempted to pull off, but thankfully, she was in pretty good shape. In her hand, was dainty clutch purse, which contains some money, and the pouch of metal marbles. Under her dress, strapped to her thighs, are her trademark guns.
After leaving the apartment at the cusp of midnight, Sharon walked a couple of blocks, and arrive at the door of one of the many seedy bars in the City. If it were up to her, she would be back in Wakanda, but the bomb in the back of her neck said otherwise.
Sharon opened the door to be greeted with a dank, dark atmosphere. There are a couple of drunkards, but it's apparent that most of the bar's patrons are on official business, by the way they stare me down suspiciously.
She made her way past the bar to a table where several men in black and brown suits are huddled closely together, rolling dice and taking bets.
"Evening gentlemen," she greeted them, placing one hand on the edge of the table.
The men turn around from their game to look up at her. They say nothing at first, and their stares are blank and unmoving.
Sharon pushes her hand forward, leaning into the group, "Where can i join the Flag Smashers?."
The men all burst out into a collective chuckle, before one of them replies, "Flag smashers? Hiring a pretty thing like you?"
"Why not? Whatever they need I can do."
The men put stand up from their seats, and Sharon prepares herself to take them on, but she realises they all stood up at the sound of the front door of the bar bursting open. Two more gangsters stumble in, carrying a much smaller man in a very fashionable suit.
Poor guy, anywhere else he'd be considered of average height, but the average adult male is six feet, he's puny.
"Look who came in crying for a job again!" one of them shouts, slamming the guy onto the bar.
"I-I assure you gentlemen, I'm a man of many skills. Your boss will find me very helpfu-" he's cut off by one of them men punching him in the stomach,
"Shut up!"
Someone pushes Sharon from behind, she turns around and it's one of the mobsters, who's shoving me along with the other recruit wanna-be. She could take them out...but the goal is to make nice with these guys, however hard that may be.
Becoming more aggressive, the thugs throw the man to the ground and start stomping on him. Sharon bites her lip, she could jeopardize her entire mission if she helps this man, but then again, she really couldn't be in much of a lower standing with them right now, could she?
Sharon runs in front of the man, shielding him from the gangsters, "Stop!"
The thugs laugh, before one of them throws a punch at her. Sharon blocks it, but then another one comes from the side, knocking her off balance. Sharon stumbles and catches herself against the bar.
The next thing she knows, She's being grabbed by two of the thugs who hoist her up and escort her out of the bar. Looking to her right, she can see that the man is also being dragged out, clearly far worse for wear than she is.
The bar doors are flung open and Sharon is thrown out onto the dirty, wet pavement, with the man launched right next to her, before the doors are slammed behind them.
Sharon looks over he shoulder and see that the man is lying motionless on the ground. Is he hurt bad?
"Hey," She barks.
His head turned away from her, he stirs ever-so-slightly, slowly turning over to reveal shadowy, light green eyes, pasty pale skin, and an abnormally pronounced nose.
"Uhm...you okay?"
With one hand, he pushes himself up, "Yeah...it's, it's not exactly easy to find decent work in this town, is it?"
Sharon nods, and as she begins to push her upper half off the dank pavement, she realises her dress is now soaked from the front, covered in the grime of the street, "Dammit!"
His voice is mid-ranged, and very timid, "Why would someone like you want to associate themselves with men like them?"
"Well, I wasn't exactly born with a silver spoon in my mouth," She tells him, getting onto her knees and rearranging her hair, "hey...nice suit."
His face becomes flushed red, he's clearly not use to getting compliments like that, "Oh, uh...thank you miss. Uhm..do...do you have anywhere you can go?"
"I have an apartment, not too far from here. There's a washer and dryer. You could wash your dress there. What's your name?" Sharon asks picking herself up.
He offers his hand to help her, which she takes, and as she rises up, his warm helping hand becomes a firm handshake, "Herman, people call me Shocker."
Sharon smiles, "I'm Sharon," His hand lingers on her own just a little longer before he lets go. His eyes meet hers, a car horn breaks them out of the daydream, Sharon looks over to see John Walker opening a car door. " Thanks Herman, i have to go" Sharon said. She then headed to the car, the car then sped off.