.
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the job was supposed to be EASY. with shield still looking for her, most of her bank accounts frozen && safe houses undoubtedly less safe she was desperate for whatever work she could find. with h e r skill set it just happened to mean doing grunt work for guys worse than her, no questions asked && money in hand. little over a month in the city, living in what was practically a shoe box, && nothing had gone wrong – it had boosted her CONFIDENCE in taking a slightly more complicated yet hardly challenging job. her problem is, she realizes after hearing a body hit the floor, she’s not used to there being heroes running around stopping the little people like her. she barely has time to turn before hitting the ground but grabs the gun from her waistband && aims almost blindly with her hair in her eyes. she adjusts her grip && stifles a groan when she sees who’s in front of her “you really have to wear a mask??”

“i just said please && sorry in a sentence && you completely ignored it. thanks – i’ll just go back to sitting in the corner on time out.”

being stuck in shields basement had left her out of the loop && out of her contacts trust, the knowledge most of them had gone down in the rise && it’s aftermath leave her adrift for three days exactly. the amount of time it takes to find someone who point her in the right direction with the resources to get her there too. she waits, listening to rumors to know how likely it is she’s going to DIE going in there ;; they’re not all that important in the end when she has an organisation that wants her blood. disconcerting – it’s the only way she can describe the club but she supposes she’s gotten used to silence. the woman s c a r e s her more than may ever did but the gun in her waistband keeps her chin up high. “it’s joker, right? got told you run things ‘round here.”
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