Olivia POV
The training evaluation was some of my better work, I will admit. Looking back on the whole alley chase, I think I could have taken the captain pretty easily, although the difference between him being fully prepped for combat and taking the stance of not wanting to injure the new trainee is pretty big. I surprised him pretty well, and I'm satisfied to have beaten him so soundly. S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters are actually pretty comfortable, once you get used to them. I still haven't officially met most of the squad, but I'm fairly sure that it'll be an uncomfortable encounter when I do. Fury said something about there being three evaluations, and, having completed the first, I think I have a pretty good idea of what the others will look like. So far, I've only met Hawkeye and the captain, and I think I have a pretty decent idea of their abilities. Hawkeye is cautious, but hides it behind a swaggering confidence that he blasts to the world, and Captain America has a deep sadness that he covers up with his patriotism and moral righteousness. As I head back to my room, I make note of the few people in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms passing by, and commit their faces to memory. I entered my room, looked around at the bed, nightstand, closet, and bathroom, sighed, and opened the window. Fury had asked me not to go anywhere, just because they still don't know all of what I can do and don't entirely trust me. I can't say I blame them, but I also can't say that I'll follow their rules either. The window's small, but not small enough to stop me from squeezing through, wings or no wings. It's a solid drop to the small, walled-in patch of concrete underneath, but for someone with my capabilities, it's literally nothing. The feeling of soaring is incomparable to any other pleasure, and the feel of the wind beneath your wings and the sheer freedom of it all is enough to make you feel as if you will burst. I soar above the compound, marking security cameras, guard stations, and other important aspects of it, and then head out over the empty bay, and into the dark grey storm clouds choking the sky. The storm is beautiful, and I can't resist loosing a few lightning bolts into the grey boil of clouds. This is freedom, this is joy, this is where I can truly lose myself for a few hours and forget about the mortal world below. I let the scales and fire below my skin take over, and shift to my dragon form, an enormous blue beast with a 60 foot wingspan and claws sharp enough to cleave a skyscraper. I open my gargantuan maw and roar my ecstasy to the open sky, beating my wings to rise above the roiling storm clouds, like some great beast ascending to its throne, clouds cascading off of my wings, raindrops beginning to fall, winds howling their assent to my ruling. Where before was freedom, this is power, this is where I belong, this is what was meant for me. The storm intensifies below me, boiling into a frenzied mass, bubbling over the other clouds, loosing wind, lightning, raindrops and hail, the sheer chaos and fierce beauty of nature ruling the worlds above and below. I remain atop my throne of clouds for some time, and watch the storm run its course. By the time it has exhausted itself, the moon has risen, bathing the entire world in shifting colors of blue and black, a sharp contrast to the sun's rays. I know that I must return, and so I grudgingly shift back into my winged form, deciding to leave my horns and some of my scales, and looking like some dark angel come to wreak vengeance and havoc among the mortal race that has somehow angered me. When I at last come in sight of the compound, it is a swarm of activity, with spotlights searching the air, and at the same, glorious moment, all come to rest on me, the solitary figure floating down out of the sky, traces of clouds still clinging to my legs and arms like reluctant spiderwebs, and I smile a feral grin, knowing that if I wished, I could turn this entire city to dust and begin anew. I gently wafted down to my window, and squeezed through again, only to be greeted by Nick Fury and more of the Avengers. "Hi" I said, finishing coming through the window, "Great storm, huh?" "Where the hell were you?" asked Captain America. "Enjoying the storm," I replied, "some of us don't particularly care for being cooped up all the time, with nothing to do, and no one to talk to. I took a little flight to the clouds and alleviated some of the mental pressure building up in my mind. Now, if you all will excuse me, you're standing in my room, and I don't appreciate the mud that you've tracked all over my floor." with that, I turned and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door and stopping to lean against it, letting out a long breath. I heard the sound of boots filing outside, and then the outer door shutting. I opened the bathroom door, and came immediately face-to-face with Hawkeye. "What do you want." I growled, now thoroughly pissed off. "Only to talk." said Hawkeye, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms, "You said you were fed up of having no one to talk to, so here I am." "I didn't mean any of you." I said, storming over to my closet to find some dry clothes, "I wanted someone who would actually understand me, and would actually care about what's going on in my life. As far as I can tell, no one here actually gives a fuck about my life, only the threat I pose to them." I tossed off my soaked jacket, flaring my wings as I did so. "They really are beautiful." said Hawkeye, "How many muscles are in them?" The question surprised me, as no one had ever really paid attention to my wings, just the person attached. "There's about seven more in each wing, and then an extra three in the shoulders where they're attached. No one's ever asked before." "How much weight can you carry?" he asked, cocking his head to one side and raising an eyebrow. "Another person about my size and then maybe about another 15-30 pounds. I haven't really tested it at all." Hawkeye pushed off the wall, and then started to make his way to the door, then paused in the doorway. "One more question: Why do you always scan everyone;s faces when you see them, even if they're inconsequential?" This question caught me totally off guard. "It's a game I used to play when my parents were away. A lot of people would pass by my room, and I would try to commit their faces to memory so that I could identify them later, just for fun. It kept the boredom away, and helped me later identity thieves and pickpockets to avoid on the streets, and which vendors or shop owners might give me food or shelter for the night." "That's very interesting." said Hawkeye. "I won't intrude on your space any longer. Good night." With that parting comment, he walked out of my room and closed the door behind him. Slightly stunned, I changed into dry clothes and went to bed, where dreams of storm clouds and lightning chased each other like cats through my head, and where, somewhere in an area of my mind that I had kept carefully closed off, memories of my childhood slowly crept out around the barriers I had put up.
Hey everyone! Sorry it's been awhile since I posted, but hopefully you guys will enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. New chapter might be coming out soon, but no promises!