Arctic Wolf slips into consciousness like you slip into your favorite shirt. A habit from years of living in the way she has. She isn't sure how it started, but it did somehow, and it became the only way she knew how to wake up. If she wasn't waking up in her favorite t-shirt, she held a gun to your head, waking up like a grenade explodes- all at once.
So she keeps her eyes closed as soon as she hears voices, because she knows better. "-kill her and be done with it." The voice is accented, and she recognizes it almost immediately. Storm Shadow, trained by the Hard Master before the master was killed. "She is a threat and a danger to us all."
"We can't kill her," says another, a male voice. She thinks through the memorized voice patterns, skipping over ones she doesn't identify with this. Then she finds it. Duke. "The President wants her alive. I told you that." Wolf ignores the smile trying to form on her lips. So if they can't kill her, then they have to do something with her. Something might give her what she wants or needs to get out.
Or keep her locked up for eternity.
Before they can continue speaking, Wolf remembers something ingrained in her soul. When you're a prisoner and you've awoken, you show you're awake after they've revealed the first bit of useful information. That counts in her eyes. So she opens them, staring at the ceiling for a moment as one of them takes breath to speak. "You shouldn't speak so freely around a prisoner, you know."
She turns her head, sitting up carefully to gauge her body for any damage. Nothing. Which surprises her, and it must show on her expression, for Jinx says in a rather pouty voice, "We haven't harmed you. Yet." Wolf makes a show of grinning. Jinx swallows slightly, and it only makes Wolf even more satisfied. Snake Eyes steps between the predatory gaze and its prey. It dies down, and she glares at Snake Eyes.
"Big ninjas are no fun," she says, a grin spreading again as she thinks of how to get under Snake Eyes's skin in a way few have before. "You're all tough and hard to crack. I prefer the little ninjas. It's fun to watch them squirm as they beg not to-."
"Why is she alive again?" Lady Jaye asks, the only other person other than the pilot. Wolf turns her gaze on her.
"I must say, soldier girls are my favorite to crack," Wolf says, continuing to get under their nails. "They claim to be loyal first, not to say anything. But they always break when the pain gets to be too much! Except I'm not as merciful. I was taught you have to go the extra mile to make sure you got every... last... drop." Her eyes meet Jaye's as the brunette swallows nervously. "And I don't mean the information." Her face pales, and Duke stands up.
He goes to Wolf, and she knows he wouldn't do this if she wasn't in chains. But they won't stop her if she decides to kill him. "Stop threatening my team, Arctic Wolf. I know the kind of person you are, and I don't like you already. If you're going to be on my team, then you have a lot to learn. Starting with respect and when to open that mouth."
She jerks forward, and he flinches. She smirks, looking more dangerous than with the grin. "I'm in chains, and you fear me. Imagine when I'm out of them just how... thankful I'll be." She leans forward. "I'm a dangerous bitch. You recognize that much, Duke. So does Lady Jaye. So does Jinx. So does Storm Shadow. And so does Snake Eyes."
"I didn't take you to one to call herself a bad bitch," is all he says in return.
"My adjective was dangerous, thank you." She leans back, staring at the floor, kicking her feet, and humming to herself. Normally, it would look odd for a woman her age, but her oddly long hair and steel colored eyes somehow made her seem like a little girl. She was small too, so it only added to the picture. Her head eventually cocks to the side. "We're almost at our destination."
"How do you know?" Duke asks.
"Because we are losing altitude," she answers simply. "I can tell by the way the plan is angled. We're going down, which is to descend, so I'd like to assume we're upon arrival." She looks up at him with a curious look. "Couldn't you tell?" He shakes his head. "Oh... Could the Arashikages tell?" None of them answer, and she smiles softly. "It was wrong of me to assume you could tell. My apologies."
Wolf is quiet the rest of the trip, stamping everything she sees into her near perfect memory. There are few things she doesn't remember quite as clear as she would like, but even fewer she doesn't remember at all. The layout is a bit complex, but she's still seen bigger and more complex. She's had to memorize so many facilities. This is just another to add to the library. Eventually, Storm Shadow stands above her as the platform descending comes to a stop. "Stay with me."
"I don't see much choice," Wolf replies in a soft voice, her eye twitching slightly at the hair in her face. "I also don't see why women in our Family don't cut their hair." Storm Shadow, being the not-so-kind person he is, turns around and allows her to deal with her hair in her face as it is. Snake Eyes, however, does his best to make her a bit more comfortable as he doesn't want to see tomorrow. He brushes it from her face, and she looks at him with curiosity, a question clear in her eyes.
He turns without answering, and Wolf turns her face forward. She has been cleared of all weapons except one, and it's the one they should've taken from her. The paperclip falls from her mouth into her hand, and she shapes it as best and discreetly as she can. She nearly has the lock when Storm Shadow grabs her hand, taking it from the chains. "I thought I heard too much rattling," he says, feeling happy to have power over someone like Wolf.
Wolf drops it to the floor, shrugging. "Don't worry. I won't be here for much longer, dear friend." She follows him to a room with a key lock and four digit code. He unlocks it, and she walks in without his help. Looking around, she sees a door separating this room from another that isn't the bathroom. "I'm assuming only you can enter."
"And various other personnel on a need to know basis," he adds, and Wolf looks around. "This part is mine. That door is your own. You will stay there until we have further instructions." Storm Shadow opens the door for her, not quite trusting her to do it alone. She keeps her head down and her mouth shut. "I'm surprised you aren't yelling a storm and trying to get out. Other than your pitiful attempt."
"Why should I?" she asks. "I am surrounded by a base filled with the G.I. Joes. Not to mention three agents trained by Arashikage methods. Escape now is futile and only to end in vain. I am many tings, but a head strong girl looking to escape is not one of them." Storm Shadow smirks, and she sits on the bed, laying down. Her hands are in front of her, resting on her stomach as she stares up at the ceiling. "Am I allowed to make a request for water?"
"Of course not," he replies, setting his things down in his room. He turns off the light in hers, briefly pausing to wonder if he should make her a bit more comfortable. Wolf stares at the roof, the gears in her head turning. So he leans against the door frame. "What are you thinking about?" It is a question brought on by curiosity, not concern. Wolf doesn't know the meaning of concern, so even if it were concern, she'd think him curious.
She shrugs. "I'm not sure how long I will be here. If I should only expect a few days or weeks as being a locked up prisoner. My Family will surely not come for me as I am the family ereba. They will only choose another once I die... If there are anymore left to be trained when I'm gone. We are a dying species for sure." Wolf actually sounds grown for a moment, but then she giggles. "And this bed is comfortable."
"You cannot be serious. How do your thoughts bounce around like that?" It wasn't something he meant to ask, but it had come out nonetheless.
Wolf thinks for a moment, confusion clouding her steel gaze. She sits up and glances at Storm Shadow. "Don't all people think like that?" she asks, glancing at him with an expression so open and childlike he's caught off guard by it. He has seen a great many actors and actresses, but none like this. It forces him to believe her to be honest and mean it.
"No. Usually, in your spot, people would be attempting to escape. Few would be wondering how long they would be there." Storm Shadow pauses, looking at her with interest. She still looks confused, etched clearly into her expression. Wolf is genuine about everything she does, but Storm Shadow can't bring himself to trust her. "You should be thinking about escape. Not about how comfortable a bed is."
"I... I guess I should start thinking about that then," she says, and leans back in her bed. "But how can I consider escape when I don't know my way around this base? I cannot begin to formulate a plan when I have almost nothing to go on." Wolf sighs. "People are so complicated. Why can't we all just do our own dirty work? It's so much fun." Storm Shadow's gaze snaps back to her. "Don't all people think things like that are fun?" Her steel gaze is on him.
"No," he replies as the door opens behind him. "They don't think killing is so much fun. They think it cruel and barbaric and a sin."
"I find sinning to be quite fun then," says Wolf.
"You'll go to Hell."
"Pain makes you stronger. Isn't that a concept taught to everyone else?" She takes a deep breath, reciting something straight from memory. "Pain makes you stronger, and strength makes you better, and being better makes you stand taller, and standing taller gives you a view few have, and having that view can win any battle if used correctly. If I am so wrong, I guess they chose the wrong ereba. I do not see reason the way most people do."
"I shall leave you to your thoughts, Arctic Wolf." Storm Shadow begins closing the door until he thinks of something. "I think you're right for the ereba. To have so many kills already is something few have been able to do, girl." He misses it, but Wolf actually smiles of something she hasn't felt before. It is quickly wiped away as thoughts begin filling her mind.
There is only one reason for someone to be kind, and that is because he intends to use the one he is kind to as a tool of pain, pleasure, or mass destruction.