(A/N) Ok guys, it's time for our Wednesday update! Another sensational South chapter is up, courtesy of the incredible Lili-Hunter. As before, we're still looking for writers for C.T., Wyoming and Utah in our sequel, along with any OC Freelancers that you wish to apply, so if you want to take part in this collaboration, what are you waiting for?!
As always, enjoy!
Chapter Fifty-Six – Catalyst
Agent South Dakota
Written by Lili-Hunter
"We all want to be the best at something. Trouble is, some people are only the best at being second best." – Jarod Kintz
Blue light filtered through the air, spreading its artificial radiance across the room. If South had glanced to either side, she may have seen its dull reflection glinting from the polished metal encasing her colleagues.
Murmurs of confusion wrapped around her, passed from the lips of her colleagues as they shifted uncomfortably. But the purple and green freelancer was still, her head tilted upward as she stared, disbelieving, at the glowing screen. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.
1. Carolina.
2. Pennsylvania
3. New York
4. Wyoming
5. Virginia
6. Alaska
"Um, sir? Where are the rest of our names?" Georgia, clad in his usual green armour, spoke up tentatively. South's gaze fell on him for a moment, before passing to the Director. His lips pouted slightly as he considered his answer, and the uncertainty curling in her chest flashed momentarily to anger at the pause.
"From now on, the leaderboard will be restricted to the top six Agents only. The rest of you may view the complete list from the boards in the cafeteria, or the mess halls. Alternatively, they are also available on your personal data-pads," the Director drawled. From behind his right shoulder, the Counselor tightened his grip on the pad between his fingers – as though he feared the Agents would attempt to rip it from him to check their ranking then and there.
Though, from the scowl twisting Agent Maine's face, it was probably more likely than she'd guessed. The Agents hesitated, in case there was more information headed their way. But the Director smirked slightly, and inclined his head. "You may do so now. Agents, you are dismissed."
"Let's go," South hissed in an aside to her brother, before spinning on her heel and stomping free of the crowded room. Several of the other Freelancers attempted to push past her as they left the room, but South shoved them back with sudden, thoughtless anger.
North spoke up from her side. "Don't worry, I'm sure we did fine." He bumped her shoulder, as though intending to be reassuring. It didn't work, and the heat in her chest curled into thick, condensed coils. "Besides, they've been here a lot longer than we have. We'll climb up there soon."
His words were intended to drain the anger swelling in her chest, but they only served to add to her uncertainty. Sure, the other Freelancers had been here longer, but that would always be true – for as long as they stayed in the Program. When she replied, her voice was tight – tenser and more curt than she had intended it to be. "Whatever, North."
She felt the weight of his gaze as he glanced quickly at her. South kept her gaze straightforward. It was a short walk through the Mother of Invention to the mess hall, and South fell back in the crowd slightly to keep by North's side. He had paused to talk to York.
"Hey," her brother began easily, smiling. "Good job, man. You too, Carolina."
York laughed, and South's gaze flickered to the Freelancer at his side. Carolina's helmet inclined slightly at North's praise. South felt the coils in her gut twist, and stared at the aquamarine – teal, sea green, whatever – Freelancer with a new kind of loathing.
However, York's words snapped her out of the twisted mess of emotions, and South realized that the ugliness in her thoughts was simple jealousy. What the hell? As though she had reason to be jealous of Carolina, besides the big fat number one sitting next to her name.
The Freelancer was still watching her. South's eyes narrowed, and an image of her shoving Carolina into the wall trailed tantalizingly through her mind. Should teach her to mind her own goddamn business. She smirked. North finally seemed to notice the tension between the two women, and glanced across their locked gazes. His hand bumped subtly into South's side, guessing her traitorous thoughts, in an attempt to dissuade her from violence.
What? North was protecting her now?
Whatever. South shot her a final, hate-filled glare before looking forward. Her heart pounded, not from fear but from the anger directed at both Carolina and herself. Jealousy sat thickly in the pit of her stomach, despite South's attempts to brush it off.
Carolina would be jealous of South soon enough. She would make sure of it.
"Yeah, well," the tan Freelancer grinned, "I'm sure you guys did well. I heard about what happened in the sim missions. Pretty impressive."
North chuckled, and replied. But his words were lost on South as she saw they were drawing near to the mess hall. The Freelancers bunched together, each struggling to reach the doorway first.
South strained forward, shoving the green and brown Massa out of her way. The Agent glanced at her reproachfully, but she was already left behind. She heard North call after her, but the tight, hot ball sitting in the pit of her stomach clenched, and she moved forward without her twin.
South had always been taller than most other girls, and her height lent her an advantage as she shoved the crowd aside. A few moments later and South was striding across the empty mess hall, intent on the glowing screen imposed on the far wall. Maine, the hulking white Freelancer, matched her every stride.
1. Carolina
2. Pennsylvania
3. New York
4. Wyoming
5. Virginia
6. Alaska
7. Massachusetts
8. Florida
9. North Dakota
10. South Dakota
11. Maine
12. Arkansas
13. Georgia
14. California
15. Michigan
16. Minnesota
Tenth? Tenth? She was ranked tenth?!
"South!" She heard the slap of metal boots on the mess hall floor as her brother joined her side. "What'd we – hey! We came ninth and tenth!" He let out a quick, relieved breath and laughed. "That's pretty good, wouldn't you – uh, South, where are you going-"
That tight, heated ball in her stomach pounded, sending almost painful waves of anger threading through her core. The best that could be said was that she had made it into the top ten – but even that wasn't reassuring, considering she had only had to beat six other Freelancers for the place.
But tenth? South hadn't even made it into the upper half. Her teeth clenched together so tightly it sent spikes of pain into her gums as her lips curled into a snarl.
South didn't know where she was going. Only that she just had to go – before she broke someone's jaw.
"Poor rookies." A low laugh came from somewhere to South's right. She froze, her hand on the doorframe, as her eyes narrowed. Was that… pity? "Don't know what to do with themselves. You'd think they'd be less surprised about their rankings," Alaska added.
"I suppose," another, female, voice agreed. She recognized Virginia. Immediately, images flashed in her mind:
5. Virginia
6. Alaska
"None of them have particularly stood out so far – a rather unremarkable group. Except for – hmmm, what were they called? – California, and the purple one. Ah, yes. South Dakota."
"What do you mean?" Virginia asked.
"But for all the wrong reasons. California is most likely suffering from several conditions and disorders. It's quite obvious, to the professional eye." Virginia made a small noise, and Alaska continued. "South Dakota is a difficult one to get a grasp on. Obviously, it's quite a mess up there."
South pivoted slowly on her right heel, just in time to catch Alaska tapping at his helmet with one finger. Her body shook with mindless fury. "I'd say her twin has quite the job, trying to keep someone with that many problems under control. It's quite obvious that her anger issues are the least of our dear South Dakota's problems-"
South's heart rose, beating a rising, primal rage deep inside that choked her throat with its pure fury. She was too far gone to even notice that the room had gone still. Not a single breath was taken, as they watched in shock. Virginia and Alaska, too deep in their conversation to see the obvious tension, continued talking.
Virginia looked distinctly uncomfortable with Al's words, and shook her head. "No," she disagreed. Al tipped his head to one side, and South was familiar enough with the asshole to know he was raising an eyebrow at her words. "It's not that. California and South are fine. Mentally. They wouldn't be here, if they weren't."
Alaska seemed a little taken aback, and Virginia took advantage of his silence. "They're both stubborn and hard-headed. Neither of them are willing to work as a team. That's all."
Was Virginia... defending her? Well, she could cram those words back down her throat. South didn't need her help.
"Why, Virginia," Alaska finally commented, "there seems to be hope for you yet."
Confused, Virginia forced a laugh. Inside South's gut, the coils turned to snakes that writhed in building, uncontrollable anger. South had clearly overestimated the current number five. She was weak - too weak to stand up outright against Alaska, or too weak to state her agreement with those they spoke of in the near vicinity. South's lip curled in savage contempt.
Oh, South was gonna show her. Virginia would know just how hard it was to laugh with her teeth knocked down her throat.
Virginia continued, unaware of just how close South was to snapping. "They're trying so hard, but it's obvious the Director knows who the best Freelancers are."
Like the spark before the flame, South's control fled - replaced instantly by white, searing anger. The fury flashed to her mind, red spots sweeping across her vision as she strode forward. South was twistedly grateful for the extra strength her purple armour lent her, as she shoved Virginia from behind. The smaller Freelancer stumbled, raising her hands as she twirled to face her opponent.
After a moment, another Freelancer unexpectedly joined South. She glanced to the side, expecting to see her twin by her side – but no, it was the other one Alaska had oh-so-kindly remarked upon, Agent California.
"What the hell, South!" Virginia straightened herself, indignant. She glanced at Alaska, hiding the guilt in her gaze.
South was enraged. Alaska could presume all he wanted to about her – South wouldn't give a flying fuck. He was wrong. But Virginia – oh, she dearly wanted to snap that little brat's neck. She could let Virginia bitch about her - South wasn't stubborn. She was just right. And unwilling to work as a team? More like unwilling to work with a bunch of stupid, fumbling idiots that didn't know one side of a war from the other - all day, but damn if she was going to stand there and listen, without taking her ego down a few notches afterwards.
But ha! Virginia thought she was the best? Yeah, well, South was going to kick her self-important little ass into the middle of the next century.
"Think you're the best, do you, Virginia?" California growled, echoing South's thoughts. He had Alaska by the throat – but now, he shoved him away and turned his fury on the smaller Freelancer. Virginia's gaze danced between the pair, and South could almost feel her fear.
And oh, it felt good.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're only fifth," he continued. "That's a hell of a long way from first."
"Fifth place is a hell of a lot better than fourteenth," Virginia snapped, fire flaring in her gaze as she responded to the insult. "Or tenth."
"At least tenth place didn't get a team member almost killed," South snarled. She took a few steps to the left, circling around the pair and dividing their attention.
"What's that supposed to mean? As though you could have done better." Virginia growled. Alaska remained quiet, observing the exchange.
South's lip curled. "You know exactly what it means. How's Florida, huh?" Virginia flushed, and opened her mouth to speak. But South bulldozed right over her. "Oh, I know! He's recovering from a bullet. And why is that, exactly? Oh yeah! Because his team failed. You," she declared, shoving Virginia's chest, "couldn't do your goddamn job!"
"The mission was a success," Alaska pointed out, cocking his head to one side.
"Er, guys?" Florida's passive voice made an attempt to intrude. "I'm right here-"
"Oh yeah, real successful," California sneered, ignoring the blue Freelancer entirely. South laughed cruelly.
There was a sudden weight on her shoulder, and she pivoted, automatically shoving the offender away. North stumbled beneath her furious strength, but started to speak; "South, this isn't-"
"Shut the hell up!" she snarled. Her hands clenched, trembling with the want – no, the need – to break someone's nose. Or jaw. Or… neck. "Piss off," she growled. For some bizarre reason she couldn't place at the moment, she didn't want him to see this.
North's intervention had halted South before - stopped her the moment before she lashed out at Carolina. But oh, no. Not this time. South could feel the anger rippling through her core and limbs with abandon, and she was deeply, blindingly, twistedly in love with it.
His eyes darkened, but her twin stepped back. York patted him on the back sympathetically.
Carolina watched her, arms crossed over her chest, from York's side. South looked away.
A new voice broke out from the crowd. "Come now, chaps, this isn't very pleasant business. Save the violence for the training room floor, eh?" Wyoming chuckled.
To her surprise, California paused. But then he glanced at her, and she understood in an instant. "Great idea," he mused. For a moment, he seemed to turn his back – and then, with a solid crack that echoed in the mess hall, his fist landed in the center of Alaska's visor.
The red Freelancer reeled, taking a few steps to steady himself. Virginia had let out a gasp, but South felt dark satisfaction spread itself through her limbs as she laughed. "You, me," California snarled. "Training room. Now."
Alaska was unfazed by the challenge. "Our weapons?"
California tipped his head, considering. "Knives."
Alaska nodded, and South's gaze flickered to the woman by his side. Virginia returned the stare with expected defiance. South took a step forward, and despite her show of confidence, Virginia flinched.
Inside her mind, South snorted with laughter. "We'll use guns," she growled. "Paint rounds."
Virginia nodded, watching the purple-and-green freelancer warily. South rolled her eyes – she wasn't going to hit her.
Not yet, anyway. South was going to wait until the fight, until she could be assured no one was going to stop her from beating Virginia black and blue – to the point where the stuck-up Freelancer matched her hair.
York coughed, awkwardly trying to break the silence. "Well, now that that's over, we can-"
"Carolina."
South's head snapped to the side. A lone agent walked forward, brushing past several others until he stood in the circle the other Freelancers had cleared during the confrontation. Arkansas crossed his arms, and looked at the number one Freelancer with a steady gaze. "I want to fight Carolina. Hand-to-hand combat, in the training room."
Silence met his request. At first South wanted to laugh at the mere ridiculousness of the idea that he – currently ranked number twelve – would challenge the aquamarine leader. And Arkansas, especially – South hadn't taken him for a hot-headed idiot, despite his earlier scrap with California. But whatever. Looks could be deceiving, she guessed. But then Carolina spoke.
"I accept."
Small murmurs of conversation broke out, and South was not the only one to watch as Carolina stepped back, spinning on her heel and walking smoothly through the open doors. A few moments later and York followed, accompanied by her brother.
South stood still, only her eyes moving as she followed his purple back as it disappeared through the doors. Air escaped her in a quiet whoosh, and South suddenly just felt empty.
No, no. Not empty. But she accepted the word anyway, rebelling against the alternative – betrayed.
What, he couldn't even stick around long enough to wish her good luck?
South shut the thought down almost immediately, but not quite quick enough. Abruptly, she turned around.
"See you in the ring," California was growling sarcastically to a relaxed Alaska.
"I dare say you will," the freelancer replied.
Virginia moved towards the doors, shoving South's shoulder as she passed. South shoved back, despite the pettiness of the move. "Good luck," Virginia snorted.
"I don't need it," South replied, eyes narrowed.
"You better hope so," the dark green Freelancer called over her shoulder.
South and California were alone, each caught up in their anger. After a moment, he glanced at her, and South returned it with a glare. She studied him for a few moments before snapping, "What the hell are you staring at?"
California snorted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He stormed out of the room, no doubt headed to the training room floor. South hesitated before following, and glanced over her shoulder, gaze automatically falling to her name.
10. South Dakota
Holding in the disappointed flash of anger – as though, somehow, she had expected the ranking to change - South Dakota left the room.
