[ Okay. So here's a tip. When engaging potential unfriendlies, regurgitating information fed to you by your HYDRA asset is generally considered a Bad Idea. It happens before she can react, dragged onto her feet by the force of the grab.
Immediately, her hands reach up to grab the arm around her throat. Imagine her surprise in discovering that the hand gripping her throat is cool, hard metal in place of flesh. She doesn't have the frame of reference to know what it means, but she knows one thing for sure: it's nothing good.
The insult would be laughable if it didn't hit so close to home. He's HYDRA. Curled up in the bathroom of the Providence base, trying to smother her sobs. Sitting rigid in the bus cockpit beside him. Sitting across from him while he pretends nothing's wrong, repressing bile in her throat. And her father. Beside him on the couch, hearing him sift through what HYDRA had done to her mother, her family, her life.
Were they SHIELD agents or HYDRA agents who'd found her in the Hunan province? Did it matter? Was there a difference then? ]
I'm with SHIELD!
[ Please god, let him acknowledge a difference. Kicking out as he lifts her, prying at the grip of his hand, she strains the words out through cracking vocal cords, quite nearly out of breath. The struggled movements as they stand now are useless, and she can't wait on him to accept it.
Raising her arms across her body, she dips her chin and cuts one arm downward into his elbow to weaken his grip, then raises her other to twist around it and shove him back by the shoulder. It only works because she's not pinned.
It's all strength, no style. He carries himself like a tank, a weapon, but she's sparing herself the trouble of self-flagellation until she survives the encounter. Blood's pooling beneath the skin on her neck, mottled and purple. It aches, but she doesn't raise her hand to soothe it yet. Can't afford the movement when she's got all her attention on watching and anticipating his. ]
I know HYDRA because I hunt HYDRA: what's your excuse?!
ALWAYS OK i have icons exclusively for this moment
Immediately, her hands reach up to grab the arm around her throat. Imagine her surprise in discovering that the hand gripping her throat is cool, hard metal in place of flesh. She doesn't have the frame of reference to know what it means, but she knows one thing for sure: it's nothing good.
The insult would be laughable if it didn't hit so close to home. He's HYDRA. Curled up in the bathroom of the Providence base, trying to smother her sobs. Sitting rigid in the bus cockpit beside him. Sitting across from him while he pretends nothing's wrong, repressing bile in her throat. And her father. Beside him on the couch, hearing him sift through what HYDRA had done to her mother, her family, her life.
Were they SHIELD agents or HYDRA agents who'd found her in the Hunan province? Did it matter? Was there a difference then? ]
I'm with SHIELD!
[ Please god, let him acknowledge a difference. Kicking out as he lifts her, prying at the grip of his hand, she strains the words out through cracking vocal cords, quite nearly out of breath. The struggled movements as they stand now are useless, and she can't wait on him to accept it.
Raising her arms across her body, she dips her chin and cuts one arm downward into his elbow to weaken his grip, then raises her other to twist around it and shove him back by the shoulder. It only works because she's not pinned.
It's all strength, no style. He carries himself like a tank, a weapon, but she's sparing herself the trouble of self-flagellation until she survives the encounter. Blood's pooling beneath the skin on her neck, mottled and purple. It aches, but she doesn't raise her hand to soothe it yet. Can't afford the movement when she's got all her attention on watching and anticipating his. ]
I know HYDRA because I hunt HYDRA: what's your excuse?!