❪ written by -dxrk_wyvern ❫
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There was a dull ringing in her ears, and her body was full of pain, by the time she was able to crack open her one eye, forcing herself out of the deep state of unconsciousness which she had succumbed to after taking the impact of that blasted shield.
The shapeshifter turned her head as she slowly returned to consciousness, mumbling a few phrases even she herself was unable to make clear sense of. The world around her was blurred, and so making clear sense of her surroundings was difficult for the first few moments.
After a few seconds, however, she was able to push herself up off the ground, blinking rapidly to ease the blurred image of her surroundings. The dull whine in her ears as a result of the first physical pain she had felt in a long time was gone after a few rapid shakes of her head.
She found herself in the corner of what looked to be a room made for containment - dark gray walls, metal floors, and a door that seemed to be made for containing enhanced mortals. Another detail she noticed was the lack of mirrors, or anything, really, that could be used as a weapon.
Peculiar.
"Took you long enough."
Jacquelyn turned her head immediately at the sound of a voice to her right. Head pounding, she managed to piece together a blurred outline of a raven-haired female.
"This is a sealed room," Lunaria Volkova said as she took a few steps towards her, "So you won't quite be able to shapeshift your way out. Here's the deal: we're both locked in here together. I have all the time in the world, and while I'm sure you do too, I'm also now sure that you have a kid waiting for you at home. So you can do whatever the hell you want for as long as we're in here, but it would seem to be in your best interests to cooperate."
The redhead, still dazed from the burst of pain that came from the impact with the shield, bared her teeth. "My child is well taken care of for the time being, so I'm sure I have more time than you think, mortal." She twitched her wings, sliding her gaze past the enhanced human to look at the locked door. How much force would it take to charge through it? Was this room big enough to hold a rhino? She was too disoriented to make that assumption.
Lunaria clicked her tongue and scribbled something down on the notepad she was holding, "Detainee . . . is . . . both unaware of the fact that we - the world's leading intelligence organization - knows the location of her family members . . . and . . . also . . . is hurling borderline racist insults . . . awesome, I'm getting paid for this, you know? Keep it coming."
Putting one hand to her head now, trying to clear the fog from her mind so she could think straight, the shapeshifter let out a hoarse chuckle. "So you know her location . . . good luck trying anything with a girl like that." Nothing else truly seemed to bother her, and while she was in immense pain, she didn't feel threatened. Not by this . . . snowflake of a human being, anyway.
"Oooo, speculative threats in the name of a six-year-old, very fascinating," the agent purred as she continued writing down notes, "the days of wild, over-confident, kind of delusional youth - what exciting times. I remember there was a time when people used to make fun threats in the name of younger-me back in the day until, well, you know, your evil nazi organization swooped in and tortured me into submission. Anyway, great stuff here, headquarters won't be too disappointed."
Jacquelyn snorted, getting to her feet with liquid grace as a feral smirk showed on her face. "That six-year-old . . . you were the one she caused to vomit all over the floor. I wouldn't be too assured of your power over her, after seeing her do that to you."
"Lady, I'm a new yorker in my mid-twenties with clinical post-traumatic stress from being trafficked at age four, I promise you don't have to worry about me feeling power over anyone. You can't seriously think throwing up is the worst thing I've experienced thus far."
"I don't know your backstory, and I frankly don't care, either. But that look in your eyes when it happened told me it wasn't just an unpleasant experience." The shapeshifter stalked a few steps toward the mortal, wings raised up in a threat.
The agent's smile faded, her posture stiffened, "Unpleasantness is relative. And seeing as you frankly don't care, I'll skip over the small talk. Let's get to why we're here. Grant Ward. I knew the guy for years. I called him my friend. As far as spies could go, I'd say I knew him quite well. Which is why I find it highly unlikely that he was the one who built HYDRA back up after Strucker died."
The shapeshifter took another step forward, flexing her claws. "Ward was the highest-ranking survivor of what remained of HYDRA. He was the only one who could build it up."
"Ah, classic, hiding behind a half-truth," Lunaria muttered as she wrote something else down, "good one, that might've even worked on Barton. I do believe he was the highest ranking survivor. I crossed off most of the others myself. I can also believe he desperately clung on to the remains of HYDRA, but I know for a fact that he's not the one at the head of the monster. Funny thing is, I've gotten this far yet still can't quite place a finger on who the real head could possibly be. Mind helping a sister out?"
"Ward brought us from the dust. He is our rightful leader," Jacquelyn replied, inclining her head as her vision finally focused, "if you cannot see the power he holds, then you really are as dense as they've said."
Lunaria tilted her head too, "So, the big scary middle-aged men have taken up gossiping too? Oh, now you have my attention. What else have they passive-aggressively said about me? You know, other than the fact that I'm the reason most of their unhappy marriages didn't work out."
Instead of responding to that question, the redhead simply bared her teeth in another feline smirk. She was only a few feet from the mortal now, and her tense posture told the animalistic creature that perhaps being this close was about to set her off.
"Let me put it this way," The agent continued, "I've spent too much of my life saying hail HYDRA to believe a single word of the lies you just fed me. I know how you operate. The one who seems to be in charge never really is the one I'm after. So let's try again. Who is the one I really need to cross off?"
"Heh," Jacquelyn tilted her head in a very feline gesture, lightly brushing a strand of red hair out of her face from where it had come loose from her ponytail. "HYDRA doesn't reveal that information to their lower ranks, so why would I tell you? Impress me . . . figure it out yourself. Show me you aren't as dense as they say."
Lunaria suddenly straightened, that pair of unnaturally green eyes locking into the shapeshifters, "So that's the game. You just told me you're one of their highest ranking members, thanks for that by the way, I thought this part would be hard. Except . . . you're something a bit more than human. And HYDRA doesn't usually even trust those like us with our own free will. Much less highly classified information. I have a bit of a theory, can you guess what it is?"
A simple lifting of her only eyebrow was the only response Lunaria received from the shapeshifter, who had gone back to her previous position, sitting down where she had woken up.
"Incredible. Truly, truly incredible." Lunaria took a few steps back, waving her arm as a chair formed first as water and then as solid ice. She sat down, crossed her legs, not seeming to be affected by the freezing-cold surface in any way even as it made contact with her bare skin, "Isn't this a confrontation for the centuries. The newest leader of HYDRA . . . and me." She gestured in between them, "not that I've been keeping count, but since Strucker is now dead, I guess you're the one who owes me a million or so apologies. Go ahead, I'll gracefully accept them all once you're done."
Jacquelyn threw back her head, letting out an explosive laugh that rattled the walls. "You . . . you seriously do not think that I — a girl who barely has reached her twenties — could possibly lead the remains of one of the largest organizations in the entire world?" She snorted. "Look, mortal, I am affiliated with them, but breathing is a bother to me. Why would I wish to rule?"
"That's really funny you bring that up, because there's only one other person in the world who's referred to me using the word mortal before," Lunaria chuckled slightly, shaking her head, "his name is Loki. Loki Laufeyson. You know, like the thousands-year-old norse god. I could catch that condescending tone anywhere, love. You're not my age. Nowhere close. Not when you believe yourself to be immortal."
"You have nothing on me. You cannot prove my age. For now, you're just going to have to believe what I tell you, because you won't get anything else out of me." She shrugged. "Ward brought us from the grave after Baron Strucker perished. He sits on the throne, not me, and he controls the agents. Why else would I be fighting alongside them, while he hid away, protected by his closest circle of soldiers?"
"Because evidently, he doesn't seem to control you at all. Which means you're definitely not one of the agents," Lunaria pointed out, "I'm not a detective. It's not my job to prove anything, and frankly my boss doesn't care too much when I get the wrong person every once in a while. Better safe than sorry. So before I walk upstairs to do my mission report, anything else in your defense that you would like to add to your file?"
"I joined HYDRA of my own free will. I'm not an experiment, nor am I a lab creation." She tilted her head back with that smirk still on her face. "Not like you."
The agent slowly looked up from her notepad, raising an eyebrow, "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"
"You're just one of HYDRA's little toys . . . and one day, that's all you'll ever be good for. Just like you were programmed to do."
The air in the room noticeably chilled as the assassin's gaze hardened, "Say whatever the hell you want about me, but look around you. You're the one locked up in a cell. I'm the one in charge here. Kind of funny how the tables turn so quickly, isn't it?"
"Oh, please . . . three years ago, you were the one in a cell. A blind puppet doing whatever your handlers wanted . . . obeying orders like a toy soldier rather than a human being. I wonder what would happen if they got their hands on you again. I'm sure it would be entertaining to see you kneel."
"And I'm sure it would be just as entertaining if I put a bullet through your skull right this goddamn second," Lunaria hissed, standing up. The chair scattered to the side, "Well, look at us now. No one's coming in or out of this room, it's just you and me. You have me now, don't you? What the hell are you going to do other than hide behind all this arrogance of a prisoner who knows they're already dead?"
Instead of looking angry, the shapeshifter looked amused. "Really? What makes you think you have any power over . . . me?" As she spoke, she shifted her body, feeling the power run through her veins and warm her skin. Her face changed, and when she opened her eye, she stared right into the green ones of the agent before her.
And then the agent faltered, genuine fear flashing across her face for a split-second as she seemed to altogether forget she was faced with a shapeshifter, "What the hell . . . Rumlow?"
"Hello . . . Siren." The voice of the man she took the form of emerged from those lips, and the shapeshifter stepped toward Lunaria.
She froze, her body stiffening. Lunaria reached for the gun at her waist and she stepped back. Her voice shook slightly as she raised the weapon to the man, "Get the hell away from me."
In the form of Rumlow, Jacquelyn smirked, taking a step forward. "Now. Why would I do that, Volkova?" That gaze held nothing but malice.
Lunaria pulled the trigger.
Two bullets, one after another hit him straight in the head, but rather than sinking into his skull, they rebounded right back off, clattering to the ground.
Bending down, the shapeshifter picked up one of the bullets from the floor, holding it up to eye level before flicking that dark gaze to the agent who fired it. "You really think that this little piece of lead would hurt me?"
She seemed to have been about to shoot again, but suddenly, she slowly lowered the weapon though her expression didn't change. "You're not him. You have no power over me, never had any. So try to scare me all you want, shapeshifter. It's not going to end well for you either way."
Jacquelyn shifted back, throwing her head backward as a howl of laughter escaped her parted jaws. "The look on your face . . . that was absolutely priceless." She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms and tilting her head with a feline smirk on her face.
"Glad to see you're entertained," Lunaria narrowed her eyes, putting the gun away, "Now, back to where we were. Grant Ward. You're going to answer a few questions I have about him. If you don't feel like it, I have Captain Roger's shield sitting outside this room. Got him to hand it over for the interrogation. Based on my observations . . . it's the vibranium that you can't deflect like bullets, isn't it?"
Something snapped in the back of her mind as the agent spoke, and she shoved off the wall with the force of a rhino and lunged right for the raven-haired woman, slamming her into the opposite wall.
Lunaria cried out in surprise as she was knocked off balance, wrapping one of her hands around the shapeshifter's wrist and bringing her knee upward to land a blow to the stomach. Jacquelyn smirked as she went down, having latched her claws into the mortal's throat to drag her down as well. She rolled clear of another blow, shooting to her feet before she lunged a second time, wings raised up even though the room was too small for liftoff.
The raven-haired agent was ready for her this time, and when Jacquelyn slammed into her, she felt the sting of human nails tearing through the black feathers, ripping a few of her primaries out and sending them scattering to the ground as the redhead let out a sharp snarl of rage.
Lunaria thrust her arms outward, unleashing a shield of ice that slammed into the shapeshifter before she could lunge again, followed by a wave of materializing water as she pulled herself up towards the door. The redhead sprang forward to stop her, but at the last second, the woman spun and thrust one arm toward her, blasting her right in the face with shockingly cold water. Surprised and disoriented, Jacquelyn fell back, landing awkwardly on one of her wings as a shriek of pure and utter rage escaped her.
But all she received in response was the slamming of the iron door, and the click of the impenetrable lock.
Then, she was alone once more.