(A/N) Hey guys, sorry that this one is going up late, juggling a social life and constant updates has proven a bit difficult lately, with my college friends all living about an hour and a half away, but here is our latest chapter at last. Another fantastic insight into the mind of Agent Virginia by the wonderful anna1795, I think you'll all enjoy the sadness and the loneliness that this chapter captures, as Virginia muses on her losses, and what she needs to do to move on! And remember, on Monday the 17th of February, we will be opening our forum to applications for Agent Texas, and I'm really looking forward to seeing some quality competition here!

Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Two – Words of Advice

Agent Virginia

Written by anna1795

"Advice is like snow – the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind." – Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Wandering the halls had become a common practice for Virginia since she had returned to the Mother of Invention. She liked her time to think, and it was as good a practice as any; especially since she had promised herself that she would try to be more sociable after Massa's death. Speaking of her deceased roommate, Virginia clutched her dog-tags – all that she had left of Massa – in her hand tightly, letting her thumb run across the individual letters engraved into the metal. M-A-S-S-A… She carved the name over and over with her thumbnail, each movement laden with grief and anger.

Unwittingly, Virginia found herself staring at the door leading to the mission briefing room, and she shuffled out of the way when she felt footsteps through the floor. The door opened, and the third wavers – as she called them collectively – all filed out, seemingly in high spirits. It must've been their first mission briefing, because the group divided in two and were talking in loud voiced about meeting times and prepping for the mission, displaying a level of enthusiasm Virginia had given up on long ago. They detached from each other and went about their business, but a bubbly green-and-orange figure bounced over and hopped in front of Virginia. West removed her helmet, eyes alight with excitement.

"It's your first simulated mission, right?" Virginia asked when West opened her mouth. She resisted the urge to cover her ears when her sister gave an excited squeal.

"It's gonna be great!" West gushed happily, literally shaking with delight in her armour. "Our first time actually being out in the field! And guess what?" she whispered conspiratorially.

Virginia decided to play along and humour her sister. She leaned in closer to listen to West's whisper, rolling her eyes slightly as she did so.

"I get to be a team leader."

Virginia had to force her muscles to remain still so that she didn't face palm in aggravation. West Virginia was her sister, and she felt nothing but love for her sister. Still, Virginia knew a little bit more about West than it seemed West did, and one truth was that West was a natural follower, not a leader. Not that she wasn't a good leader when the need arose, but West seemed unconsciously more at ease when she was receiving the orders, not giving them. Virginia didn't know if the Director had assigned West as a leader based on faith in her relationship with Virginia, but she sincerely hoped not. Both she and West hated the practice of nepotism.

"Who's on your team?" Virginia finally decided to ask, curious to see whether or not her sister's teammates would be hard to work with. She crossed her fingers that Colorado wasn't one of them.

West thought for a moment. "Nevada…Connecticut…and Utah," she listed off slowly as their names came to mind, and Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. From what she had seen of those particular three, they weren't of a bad sort; Nevada was almost a West clone, Connecticut was a little withdrawn, and Utah…was something else. New Jersey might have been more ideal, but it was good practice to get West out of her comfort zone.

"I want to give you some advice. And don't you roll your eyes at me, missy," she scolded gently, just as West good-naturedly sighed and let her eyes drift skywards. "You don't know all the ropes yet of the Project, and I just want to help you." Her younger sister could be as stubborn as a mule, sometimes.

"I think that I'll be fine," West tried to reassure her. "I can keep my head above the water when I use my point system."

Virginia couldn't help but smile and fold her arms. "Alright," she said, "who did what?"

"…Colorado," West mumbled. "Said that I didn't work my way into Freelancer."

Oh boy, Virginia thought to herself as she sighed. "How many points did that get her?"

"A bajillion and four."

"West?" Virginia asked expectantly, raising her eyebrow. She had only a little patience for her sister's games.

"…two."

"And you're not going to take it out on her on the field, are you?" If Virginia had learned anything in her time in Project Freelancer, it was to keep your grudges to yourself, and certainly off the battlefield.

"Oh, come on! It's the best place to make it look like an accident!"

"West," Virginia finally said, "this is my first piece of advice to you: keep your grudges off the field and keep them in the training room. Remember when I told you about my fight against South?"

"Yeah, I remember," West admitted sullenly. "Still, didn't you smash her face into a plateful of macaroni and cheese?"

Virginia blushed. "That was different. There will not be a repeat performance."

"I wish I had been there to see it."

Virginia looked away, smiling slightly in the memory of small victories. "Ask some of the guys that were there. I'm sure that they have a picture of it."

"Wasn't there advice that you were going to give me?" West whined, looking around impatiently, clearly eager to get going. "I have to meet up with the other guys soon."

"Fine, I'll hurry it up," Virginia promised, holding up her hands. She might have little tolerance of tomfoolery, but overall, it was much more extensive than West's general patience level. "Second, remember to keep a level head in the field. Make sure that you're covering both offensive and defensive details with your mission, and allocate your resources accordingly."

"Yeah, I know that much," West interrupted, ignoring Virginia's huff. "Can you get on with it, Virgie?"

"Don't call me that," Virginia groused, snorting at her sister's words. "Finally, don't trust anyone here."

West didn't say anything for about five seconds, her face falling slightly as the silence crept between them. "…is this just you talking, or actual experience this time?"

"West, I'm being serious."

"So am I," the shorter blonde retorted. "I know that you haven't really trusted people since we were kids. I honestly don't know if you saying "don't trust anyone here" is because you don't like to trust people, or because some people did some things."

"Just don't trust people here, okay?" Virginia asked, trying to go towards aggravation rather than pleading. She did not beg people to head her advice. "Look, some people did some things recently that stabbed us all in the back. You think that everyone here was always so serious about everything? No, they weren't. They used to be almost as happy as you."

West almost seemed to swell up in reaction to her older sister's attitude change, her eyebrows knitting together in response to Virginia's words. "So what happened?" she demanded seriously. "I know that Arkansas and Pennsylvania defected, but was that enough to get you all jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs?"

Virginia stopped, her aggravation subsiding as grief reared its ugly head at her. West saw her sister's reaction, and it didn't take a lot to guess.

"You weren't rooming alone all the time, were you?" West asked softly. "Someone else used to be there."

Virginia shrugged the armoured hand off of her retreating shoulder. She didn't want to explain anything else. "Good luck on the mission," she said while trying to hide the shake in her voice. "I'll see you when you get back."

She could hear West try to take a breath as if to say something, but didn't, and heard her boots walk down the hallway and to the weapons locker. They never actually fought, just sometimes had conversations like this. West tried to be stubborn, Virginia responded in kind, West brought up something painful inadvertently, West left Virginia alone, kiss, makeup, continue on with life. It was just hard when West had brought up something so recent.

M-A-S-S-A. Her fingernail began tracing the letters again.

Michigan hadn't been Virginia's favourite person in the world, but that didn't mean that she wasn't saddened by the loss of a teammate. Massa's hit her the hardest because she had been so close, one of the few friends that she had ever had. Mention of Ark and Penn's betrayal tore open fresh wounds in her, almost threatening to topple her feeble Jenga tower of sociability and non-paranoia again.

M-A-S-S-A.

Virginia needed a distraction, and she raced back to her room to grab her bow and arrows in preparation for another training session. She hadn't been out in the field for a while; accuracy training could get her mind off of things, keep her focused on her ultimate goal.

M-A-S-S-A.

Massa had been a good friend, one of the few that she had ever had in her life. She had always been there for Virginia when she was injured or just wanted to talk; she hadn't hurt anyone unintentionally, and always looked out of those around her. Then Pennsylvania had defected from the group; Penn had killed Massa with one shot; Penn had forced down the fragile Jenga tower of Virginia's sociality by taking out the green and brown-armoured, sweet natured, Aussie-accented medic at its very core. She had spent the last few months completely rebuilding from scratch.

M-A-S-S-A.

Virginia got to the training room and gave F.I.L.S.S. her simulation instructions, prepping her bow with two arrows at once. No one was there to watch her, critique her, or disturb her. Virginia knew that she was retreating into herself and talking to other people less than ever, but she accepted this. She'd made a promise to herself to be more sociable, but that was only going to be fully accomplished through one means: Pennsylvania had to die. Harper, she didn't care about. With Arkansas, she had no vendetta, and could even mildly sympathize with his disillusionment. At this point, she wasn't solely working with Project Freelancer for the purpose of defending the universe against the Insurrection. That didn't mean that he wasn't at fault, but whenever she saw a target come up in front of her, her arrows flew at the huge face of Penn looming in her vision. At the end of the day, Penn was the only one who mattered.

M-A-S-S-A.

Freelancer is a tool, she told herself whenever she walked the halls to think, every time she practiced with weapons in the training room, and every time she saw those amongst her fellow Freelancers who were still visibly suffering from the deaths of their comrades (Alaska, California, Minnesota and Wyoming, for example). She would work with the Director for now, but as soon as she saw Pennsylvania, all bets were off. Alaska and Wyoming might have an equal claim to Penn, but she was determined to take him out. Even if I have to use my bare hands, she thought venomously, I'll tear his heart out. That was the only way that Virginia's mind and soul could be at peace.

M-A-S-S-A.