Marvel RP ~The Next Chapter~ discussion

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Lyle slowly woke, opening his bleary eyes. He was slumped on the ground in a small room, with a metal table and two chairs, facing one another from behind the table. He shut his eyes again when the light hit his eye, giving him a major headache. What had happened? Then he remembered: SHIELD has stormed the Brainwashing Chamber, taken them hostage, the one girl...she had shot him. Twice in the hip and twice with and ICER. She had hit him over the head. Now he was in their Interrogation Room, with one of those freak SHIELD agents coming to ask him about how he felt about being kidnapped. He struggled to his feet, using the wall as a support, and he stumbled up, nearly tripping over his feet. He felt the white-hot pain coming from his stomach and his hip, from where the agent had shot him. He winced, trying to touch his bruises, but the handcuffs behind his back restrained him. He growled and slowly paced the room, shaking his head and muttering curses under his breath.

Two minutes later, the door unlocked and opened, and the agent from before stepped through the room and shut the door behind her, locking it. Security cameras were up and running in the room. Since before, the woman had changed out of the infiltrated Hydra uniform and was now dressed in a SHIELD one, holster on and loaded with at least three different types of weapons; she'd taken her sweet time, too, was showered, cleaned up, and ready to get information from this guy. Her dark brown hair was swept into a low bun again, and her green eyes were sharp and alert. She'd been watching him from the cameras until now.
"So, pacing like a jaguar are we?" She stated casually, slipping into one of the chairs, holding a SHIELD electronic pad. "Sit down, kid."

Lyle glared at the girl, recognizing her immediately. He stopped in his tracks and glowered at her, his face an angry mess. He scoffed at her, a cruel smile returning on his face. "A jaguar does not pace. It has no reason to. It does not scheme, or take offense to others. That's a dumb comparison. Honestly, I expected more." He leaned against the wall, refusing the seat. "I'd rather prefer to stand. And anyways, you didn't ask politely. And my parents taught me well, they told me not to accept a seat for those rude and arrogant." He said calmly.

"You're right, my mistake, so dumb," she responded cooly. "After all, you're the one neglecting the fact you're in a cage, and any caged animal paces." She was silent for a moment, then reached down and picked up a remote from where it was against her belt. "You don't get a choice." She aimed it at him, pressed a button, and two small chips SHIELD had embedded into Lyle's shirt and one behind his knees when they brought him here began to electrocute, not enough to knock him out or kill him, but enough to--hopefully--bring him to his knees. "I said sit down." Her voice was cold and rang with authority now as she stood up and walked over to him. "It's that or you can keep cowering before me on your knees. I rather find it amusing anyway."

"Not necessarily. Some do, yes, but not all. A bird doesn't pace, for example. And don't try to fix it, sweetheart, you know what you said." He said breezily. When she pulled out the remote, he prepared for the pain. He gasped and did fall to his knees, but quickly charged the table, kicking and thrashing until the chair was kicked across the room. "You have no authority over me. I am a proud Hydra torturer, and I will resist." He spit on the table, and backed away to his dark corner again, glowering at the woman. "I will not sit. I will not kneel. I will resist. And you'll find that it will be incredibly hard to interrogate me if I am thrashing around."

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" She muttered dismissively, and then almost glared when he called her sweetheart. A shiver darted up her spine, and it took all in her not to snap at him not to call her that. She took a deep breath to push down the wave of fury and then sighed and righted the chair. "I do actually have authority over you. Let's look at the situation, shall we? Which one of us is, one, not handcuffed, and two, not trapped in here?" She sighed and twirled the remote in her hand. "Yeah...yeah I guess it is kind of hard to do that. Easy fix, that. Excuse me for a moment." Without a backwards glance, she left the room, and seconds later it began to fill with a heavy sedative gas. Once he was down, she'd chain his irritating person to the chair and then chain the chair down.

((That escalated quickly XD))

He stuck his chin up at her, a smirk twisting his face. "I prefer it over hearing you chat." He glanced at her, triumphant that he had silenced the agent. "Well, I do have to admit, I am more trapped than you are, just that does not give you the automatic right to boss me around." He glowered. "Like a child," he added, hoping to hit a nerve. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but I'm afraid whatever you do to me, I will resist. Go ahead, chain me and drug me. But just remember: You don't have to waste those things on my mother; she prefers peace over resistance. I wouldn't be surprised if she becomes a mole for you. But then again, remember: If a head is cut off, two more shall take its place. Others will come. Others will resist." He snapped at her retreating back, and he wanted to continue, but the gas already filling the room made him choke and gasp, cutting off any comeback he would scream at her. He slumped back against the wall, panic filling his eyes. He cursed her name, and struggled to stand, but darkness began clouding his vision, and he fell into unconsciousness just as the floor got closer and closer to his head.

((XD yeah; she’s not patient lol))

She listened to his screams until he knocked out. The child comment didn’t hit a nerve; she was still disgusted by his endearment, truth be told. She hated entitled men who thought they could just endear every woman they met. And to add onto that, ones with egos were even more aggravating. And for her, she didn’t even like men, making the situation both laughable and frustrating. Caledonia, who hadn’t actually ever given Lyle her name, watched outside as he passed out. “Yeah yeah we’ve all heard the Hydra motto,” she muttered, unimpressed, before opening the door with a gas mask on and dragging him to the chair. She chained him to it, chained the chair down, and added more tasers on his person that would be done with a flick or a switch. Caledonia lingered on his mother comment though—yes, he was probably right, but this guy probably knew more than a woman who just brainwashed people. And maybe she’d threaten to kill his mom—she wouldn’t do it, but maybe she’d pretend to. Drug the woman and get really really sick and watch Lyle’s reaction. She knew it was wrong but also knew global security mattered more. Or, she’d fluff up Lyle and get the loud mouth bragging and hopefully he’d slip. Because she needed to know what their plans were with brainwashing people the way they were. After the gas had finally faded from the room, she removed her mask, sat down, and then jammed a gun against his shoulder. "Wake up, kiddo," she snapped. "I have a job to do and nap time is over. Oh, wow, I think you're drooling. Need a tissue?" She purred.

Lyle slowly gained consciousness, but he never opened his eyes. That freak would have to pull his eyelids apart and force his vocal cords to speak if she wanted more from him. He had made mistakes. He had been caught. But he would rather die than ever give intel to this entitled brat before him. He was too loyal to his agency. He was too loyal to his father. He felt the weight of the chains wrapping around him, and he wanted to stir to get into a more comfortable position. But he knew he would give up his play. He did love fooling people. He did love seeing others ticked and acting irrational. Just like her. And he did semi-enjoy the sight of blood, it tells him he's done his job right. But the warm blood trickling from the new bulging wound on his forehead did anything but make him happy. He couldn't keep up like this. If this cruel, prissy, full-of-herself agent was going to keep injuring him at this rate, he could be dead in a matter of days. Gosh, did he hate SHIELD. He hated the agent even more. And he wasn't drooling, she just wanted another way to humiliate him. But it wouldn't work. If she wanted him to drool, he could drool. She couldn't stop him.

She watched him slowly, and then when it seemed he wasn't going to acknowledge her--and yes, she'd seen this done before--the brunette shrugged and walked back to slouch in her seat. She propped her booted feet up on the table between them and casually took a sip of coffee that smelled very minty and delicious, before setting it down again. "Apologies, I'm just thirsty. If you want something I'd be happy to get it to you, you just need to talk first." Caledonia then placed his file, which she'd retrieved from Hydra, on the table. She opened it. "Well, while you gain your bearings, Mr. Forza, let's take a look at this. You're 24, Level 7--wow, all this for an agent beneath my status--and had a boo-boo on the field that took you away from active duty..." She looked up, green eyes piercing. "Let me guess: you're not over that. What'd you do, trip and sprain your ankle running after the ice-cream man?" She asked in a patronizing voice with a sick smile, before she continued reading. For some reason, she just like getting under the man's skin. That was when she heard her phone go off, and she looked down to see a message.
You're having too much fun with this...it's highly entertaining.
She just smirked and shoved her phone aside before looking up at him again. Did Caledonia have a sadistic side? Not exactly (well, when she was angry...maybe a bit). It was more like, most killing and full-out torturing aside, she would protect global security at any cost, and she had become an agent to protect people. Hydra were terrorists. That was not up for debate. She hated people who violated human rights. "So you guard and torture for Hydra. Interesting. Your father looks to be almost a prodigy there. Why, though? Why bother doing that in an agency that will never value you as much as it does your father?" She demanded. "I get it--you had an injury. But..." She tapped her fingers on the desk slowly. "But we all know when someone at Hydra is injured, they're disposed of like that." She snapped her fingers before his face, loud and clear. "So what makes you stick around, waiting for the day they finally decide to eliminate you?" Caledonia demanded. "What glorified future are you waiting for, considering we've managed to stop you again and again? You even brought us down in 2014--shot the Director many times. But we rebounded. That speaks to something we have that you don't: resilience. Determination. A moral code. All you have is desperation."

When she retreated, he nearly smiled. Alright, fine, at least she was leaving him alone. She probably already knew his play, but at least she's not forcing him to talk. He could smell the coffee she had in her hand, but thought nothing of it. He prefered straight black coffee, not odd minty stuff. This girl would have to try harder if she wanted to lure him into talking with food or drink. He'd been days without food and water, when he was on the field, so this was no different. He wasn't going to break that easy. When she opened his file, he slowly opened his eyes. Yup. Level 7. I guess I have a lot to me, if some 8 loses her temper, and has to chain me to a chair. He smirked, finally using his voice. "Actually, I was stabbed. I can show you the scar, if you'd like. It runs a foot or something down my left side." He maneuvered over slightly, until his shirt can up a little, revealing the edge of his scar. "I know, it's nothing quite like your little ice cream story, but it hurt just the same." When he phone beeped, he decided to try to get under this girl's skin. If she was trying so hard to get under his, why not do the same? "Is that Mommy? Making sure you didn't get hurt when you were fighting big bad monsters," he said in a whiny, childish voice. "Ohhhh, how sweet of her." When she just smirked, he knew something had gone wrong. It probably was her mother, watching creepily. Gosh, did he hate SHIELD. All they do is steal away any chances Hydra gets, even when they deserve that chance. All they wanted was a chance for greatness, and SHIELD always knocks them down. In ways, SHIELD was greater than Hydra, except for the fact that SHIELD has put no effort in raising themselves, all their missions, all their energy is going to dragging Hydra down. But if you cut off one head, two more come back in its place, and this raging war wasn't going to end soon. He rolled his eyes, "Yes, I torture and guard and Hydra. It says it right there, in my file. Can't you read?" Idiot girl. She would never learn, would she? Yes, yes he did guard and torture for Hydra. And she knew that. He growled softly, not answering her question. She didn't need to know why. She didn't deserve that information anyway. Hydra wanted him. He was good at his job. And soon he would be good on the field, too, once they let him. He'll be the best all-around agent they've had for years. He'll stand right next to his father, have a title just like his, too. What glorified future are we waiting for? We're waiting for a future with no SHIELD.

“No I don’t want nor need to see your scar. It only shows me that whoever made it was too much of a coward to plunge a little deeper and finish you off,” she replied, not even looking at him as she flipped through the file. Not that she wanted him dead, exactly—she didn’t. She wasn’t that horrible, even if she pretended she was. Even so, Caledonia could sense movement. “Are you seriously trying to show off? Geez, men are pathetic. Anyway, if it’s really such a great scar, what the heck did you actually do then?” She demanded. “Besides get injured on the field? Your files are a bit less detailed than we would like.” She ignored his comment about reading; it didn’t tick her off as much as he probably hoped it did. When he started mocking her about who was on the phone, she looked up and raised a dark brow. “Thanks for the concern. My mother’s dead,” she stated flatly. “Anyway, even if she wasn’t I’m pretty sure I can handle myself. I blew your base up and took it over and interestingly, I wasn’t shot. On the other hand you got some bloody wounds. But…again, your concern is so appreciated,” she added, lip curling in a sarcastic sneer at the end. “Who knew Hydra had such kind souls?” Or souls at all, actually, she almost added, but instead stopped herself at the last moment. She could have given the lie about her scientist mom but she didn’t want Lyle anywhere near that sweet woman who was almost like an aunt to her. She wasn’t taking chances. Caledonia nodded slowly when he didn’t answer. But he growled. Yes, that he did do, and that didn’t miss her notice. She smiled again, in a patronizing way. “Ah. Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Caledonia stood up, finishing off her coffee. She began to pace the room casually. “Growling when I touched on the daddy subject, how Hydra sees you as disposable. Exceedingly defensive when it comes to your injury. Prideful. People puff up their jobs when they’re wanting more, trying to make themselves look as if they’re satisfied in front of enemies when I know at least part of this is a facade.” She stopped and crossed her arms, staring right at him. “You’re definitely all hurt. You don’t like your job, you want papa’s job, don’t you? But you’re stuck here being a lowly guard. Disposable. What would your father say? Is he proud of you? Honestly I’m starting to wonder if you even know why you do what you do. Is there a reason you torture people? What information could you possibly hope to attain from people for an organization that wants you dead?” She demanded.

((Just a small reminder))

((I'm sorry sorry sorry I'm just so busy and I will be getting to all the rps soon, I promise!))

((It’s fine!))