3111/Getting Caught Up, Ambiguously

Getting Caught Up, Ambiguously
Date of Scene:	26 August 2020
Location:	Abandoned Warehouse
Synopsis:	A reunion between very old friends mixed with very old hostilities. Some things never change. Hiding bodies is more fun with people you know and trust!
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Ariah Olivie

---

Peggy Carter has posed:
Sitting still was never for Peggy Carter. But letting ribs heal also takes time so, she's decided to conduct some proactive research that SHOULD only be of the listening variety. She still has Richter's secondary business on tap. She hasn't gotten any hits from it yet, but she's patient. The warehouse which Punisher used the upper floor as a punching bag still offers a good point of view from the now half caved in lower floor. She's set herself up near the the front half the nights this week, staring at the business across the street through the corner of a shattered window, listening to the bugs she's planted in and on the building.

Tonight, however... She's not alone. Little did she know, the few HYDRA members left of Richter's cell have finally come back for the last things. And their tech? It's good at tracing bugs. It's better than she thought. She sits up straighter as she watches the group loading into the building, finally ready to get some information. They don't stay in long. Five minutes later, and they're spilling back out with determined, fast steps. Steps practically marching straight across the street...

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah always seems to get around. The city, her home now, and her hunting ground. The diminutive vampiress is on an investigation of her own, of a sort. The warehouses hold some information for her, but for the moment, she's hiding in plain sight. Looking like, this evening, she's either going to a club or had come from one, as she walks down the street. She's taking her time, the little witch often appearing aloof, and has ample opportunity to watch a bunch of men enter a building--and then after a few minutes pour out like angry bees out of a hive.

    She pauses on the sidewalk, in the shadow of a busted lamp-post, and watches. Her eyes are wonderful in the dark, and she can feel out heartbeats. She might -just- be close enough to hear one coming, faintly, from a corner window. Curiouser and curiouser. Not that there's a lack of homeless in these places, but she waits, and steals a glance at her phone before watching the outcome of the men hustling.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh hell..." No human could hear that accented mutterance from the figure in the abandoned warehouse, but Ariah might be able to pick it up over the suddenly quicker, far more alert heartbeat. Not just a homeless person, not by far. Peggy doesn't have a lot of time to act and is absolutely outnumbered, so she drops to taking cover below the busted out window and her little, silenced SIG coughs out two shots. Head shots, or so they are meant to be. She doesn't trust the enemies to be in anything but body armor just as good, if not better, than she has.

It's given away her position, but they knew anyway. She slams ner dufflebag across her shoulder and starts to book it back into the maze and debris of the building around her, hoping not all other exits are blocked off from the destruction earlier in the week. She's moving a bit slow, but adrenaline helps cut through the pain of old injuries. She needed to bug out.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah waits a few heartbeats more. Literally. She can catch the quickening, and starts to cross the street herself, getting closer. It takes all of her focus but since she's doing nothing else, she reaches out with those senses and... suddenly there's two less heartbeats after the distinct 'poff poff' of suppressed gunshots. A blink, a frown, and the little witch shakes her head.

    Another few heartbeats, two, three, four, and she heads for the same entrance the men had poured into. She can at least figure they're focused on that someone else. The little shock trooper isn't too bad at being stealthy herself, either.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peg is usually highly aware of her surroundings, there's a lot going on right now. She's trying to navigate a collapsed building, has at least three more HYDRA on her tail, and most of her was still sore in some way or another. She's moving fast, though, slightly more familiar with her surroundings than the men behind her, so combat boots lead her up a pile of debris that she then shoves down and out, tumbling a little part of that building in their direction. It stops at least one of them, as he gets a chunk of rebar straight into the hip, pinning him there on some blind luck. But the other two are right on her tail now. She has no clue the whole group has a follow.

The far corner she's going for is more blocked than she first remembers. Mentally cursing, she spins back around, moving to take another shot but they are on top of her already. She lets out a curse as she tumbles backwards and tosses herself into a roll, HYDRA agent atop of her. She flings him off of her backwards but the other is right there.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    More shifts in heartbeat. One more quickening. And... Ariah pauses. There's the scent of blood from the two shot in the head, of course, and those bodies are passed by without a thought. But more. The rebar-pierced man is more blood and another quickened beat. It's also a much brighter 'beacon' to follow, letting her relax her 'tremorsense' and focus more on her surroundings. It helps, considering the damage done to the warehouse and uneven terrain.

    It isn't long before she comes upon the struggling man stuck on the debris, and she does him a favor by putting him out of his misery. She's seen these types before. Too many times before.

    And finally she's just about there, hearing the sounds of the scuffle and seeing the second-to-last man take an impressive tumble as the good spy throws him off. Ariah's eyes, adjusted to the dark, focus on the rest of the details. The two men. Peggy's face. A spark of recognition shining in her own eyes for a split-second.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Dimly, Peggy is aware of another shadow in the the fray around her, but that shadow isn't actively raising a gun at her or trying to strangle her, so it's a worry for another minute. She's lost her advantage now that her opponents have closed quarters and it's on sheer skill alone that she's not already overwhelmed. She swings her gun in to viciously whip at the man's face who is closest, sending a spurt of blood onto the rubble below, but he barely stops moving. He delivers a roundhouse kick to her side which gets a choke of pain from her. She has no time to crumple.

The second man is on her as well, a garrote in his hands, going for the knock out instead of the kill. They needed information more than she did. It's a last minute shift that she has her hand between the wire and her neck, but he's still strangling down on her, superior strength at her back as she tries to buck him off like a bull. Dark eyes snap up to Ariah for a moment, widening as she cannot believe what she's seeing. She has no breath or time to call out to what must be a hallucination.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    A hallucination from the 1940's. It'd be a hell of a thing to be thinking of when one's life is flashing before their eyes. But no, Ariah is real. As the other three find out in short order. The witch's arms glow blue-white as she spreads them to her sides, runes etched in her bones flaring to life. Her fingers splay, palms cradling growing spheres of that same energy.

    In the darkness, the shine is intense. And then she sweeps her arms together, the spheres leaping from them, elongating into lances of energy that arc around to either side of Peggy. They pierce through the man holding the garrote, solid like spears of glass that impale him double and then shatter. The Agent can feel the rupture and the shake of the force underneath flesh, bone, and armor--and of course the grossness of coughed-up blood getting on her neck.

    It's a showy display, and the second wheels around, gun coming up, Peggy momentarily forgotten. Shots ring out, the shorter woman taking two to the chest before the bright white-blue of her energy forms a shell in front of her, bullet impacts making it crunch and spiderweb like glass. Despite her own bleeding wounds she advances and tackles the man to the ground like an animal.

    The last thing that's heard is a scream and a gurgle as the glow of energy fades around the witch, her mouth clamping down on his throat and tearing flesh free. She stays there for a few moments, then sits up on his chest, spitting out some bits. The holes in her chest slowly close, the two slugs emerging, blood-soaked metal.

    Ariah knows that Peggy knows who--and what--she is. No need to pull punches. She's a mess, though, blood on her face from her nose down her chin, dripping on her chest. But she stands, exhaling a long, half-pleasured sigh. "...Mademoiselle Carter," she greets quietly.

Peggy Carter has posed:
It's not what Peggy thought the next life would be, but maybe she's dying. Maybe Ariah is on the other side. Or, just maybe, the woman is just that long lived and actually has come just at the right time. Peggy winces a bit as blood sprays onto her neck and cheek, turning head away and closing eyes in efforts to not get into anywhere that could be open on her face, but the pressure on her throat is gone.

She slumps to the ground, rolling off of the dead man and onto all fours for just a moment as she coughs, fighting for the air she wasn't able to get previously. God, that hurt. She braces her body in pain, trying to just breathe through it, but her shoulder is viciously angry again and cracked ribs shifting more. Blood beneath the skin. The internal injuries aren't lethal but they aren't happy either. She just remains on her knees there a few ragged heartbeats, catching her breath.

"Ms. Olivie...it... It has been quite... Some time. You arrived at the perfect...opportunity. I suppose I owe you one." Peggy's accent hasn't changed, nor her dry, very British way of understating everything.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Oui, it has," Ariah says converstionally, her own French accent as thick as the day she learned enough of the Queen's English to hold a conversation with the British troops. "I did not know you were in New York City," she states, voice cold and quiet. Immortality hasn't changed her all that much from the efficient girl soldier she was.

    "Would that it could have been under better circumstances. You have aged well," she moves towards the woman on the floor, offering her hand, her short stature probably making it easier to get up with her help. "You are very hurt, and..." she glances around at the two men she'd ended, one rather messily.

    "...your friends taste terrible. Who were they?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg looks better than the last time they met. Some month in the early bit of 1985, when her skin had been paper thin and hair starting to fall out. No explanations had been given to Ariah at the time, but a quiet hand off to a different contact in SHIELD. A handshake echoing it was an honor to serve. Maybe even a brief hug. The unspoken assumption that Peg knew she'd be dead soon, even though she hadn't seemed to *age* at all since sometime in the 60s. Now, she looks flush and full of life again. She's put muscle and meat back on, her hair's back to it's full brunette, and if she wasn't injuried, she'd be a hearty mid-30s once more. The blood on her lips, a bit of it her own, is enough to slightly hurt the 'healthy' look.

She gives Ariah a faint smile, accepting the hand up and gingerly getting up to her feet. She manages not to stumble, but she's definitely moving slowly. Her uniform is that of a modern SHIELD cut, with the proper SHIELD body armor, even if lack of a comm says she's probably not here on official work. "It's not that bad... Just need a few moments to catch my breath. And... second generation HYDRA. Or, at least, working for one. I was trying to see how deep the cell went but... survival trumps the need for information."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    By the 80's, Ariah had already been turned, not having aged a day since the late 40's. She stands firm, helping Peggy up, the strength from fresh blood coursing through her dead veins after her impromptu meal. "We are soldiers, we stand or we die," she states quietly, glad to see the Agent back on her feet, even if it's a shaky foot. She hears the HYDRA business, though, and frowns at the man she'd taken a bite out of.

    "Now I regret feeding, if there is no telling what hides in that tainted blood..." she says with a slow shake of her head. "And I apologize, had I known, I would have kept one alive for you to take home. But more importantly, are there more nearby?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Dark eyes flicker up from the dead men at their feet towards the front of the now silent, still building. She sighs out a long breath. "I don't... Think so. I only counted five going into the business I was observing, and that matches the numbers that escaped during my last encounter. We've probably cleaned out this cell. It wasn't a...large, or too active one. I don't think." Peggy admits quietly, though there is still a line of worry to her bloody lips.

She carefully picks her way over the dead man's arm to stand just a bit closer to Ariah. "...We should clean up the ones you ate from. The cops will ask more questions about that than bullets. I don't want to bring the PD or worse down on you."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah nods slowly, "Your safety is priority. If there are no other threats we will see to clean-up, oui..." she stares down at the one whose neck is just missing a comically large piece. "There have been troubles with 'pretender' vampires..." she starts, then frowns. "...and hunters... as of late." She expresses some recent troubles, but stays focused on the task. "Your organization was ever talented in clean-up efforts. My apologies for making things more difficult. How shall we dispose of this one?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...I'm not exactly on official assignment right now..." Peggy admits with an almost wince before following it up with a half game smile, "Little... side work to keep me busy, you know? But I've got a car fairly close and there's the river...If nothing else. Or if we put some food in and around the wound and *hope* they don't catch sight of him, animals will do enough of the work to make your's disappear. But that's a risk. We should probably get them out of this area. The bullets are... explainable by other activity in this areay."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I understand. You will need time to heal, non?" she asks, then offers a small shrug of those small shoulders. "The rats will eat anything. There are plenty in this disrtrict. And how soon would the authorities arrive? You were silent. But..." she looks around again, "...this place is a mess. Was the fighting recent?" she asks, almost giving a semi-knowing glance back to Peggy.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg gives a quiet look around the chaos from earlier last weekend. "Uh... doesn't even look like they bothered to put up no trespassng tape since. I don't think the authorities care all that much for this area. But if someone reported gunshots, they'll probably come check it out. If we get the bodies out of the road and in here... might go unnoticed longer. This place has been collapsed about... Five days now?" So, yes, recent. And yes, Peggy clearly knows something about it.

She waves off the comment about her needing time to heal, that the last thing she's worried about now. It'll matter more when adrenaline wears off. Gingerly, she begins to make her way to the front of the debris filled building, sharp eyes staring out across the street for any sign of worry or police. She gives Ariah a tired bit of a laugh over her shoulder, "...reminds me of the Blitz, almost. How many completely wrecked buildings have we been in before?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Then we feed them to the rats. Drop some more of the building on them," Ariah suggests, following Peggy and looking at the general stability of the building. "...too much and it will be easier to notice.." she says quietly. "...but I am a shock trooper, not a demolitions specialist." Still, there's a ghost of a smile, a playful touch in her expression that isn't often there, listening to Peggy recount things, and what goes unsaid.

    "Too many," she replies, the images in her mind of her devastated homeland still fresh enough. Again, the joys of immortality. Some things are just indelible. "If his head is crushed by debris then there will be no neck to examine," she suggests in that cool tone of the man she'd eaten.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...Then... work on making an unfortuante accident of debris happen here, and I'll get the other two." Because yes, she *absolutely* should be dragging dead bodies with the injuries to her ribs and on slightly shaky feet. But Peggy Carter has never really been good at knowing limits and, from the stiff tone of her voice, she's in focus-on-work mode now. There will be time to catch up, or lick wounds, when they aren't leaving themselves open to homicide convictions. So, her boots carry her quickly across the street, to the first of the other bodies, the moment she sees no other lights on the road.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I will do what I can," Ariah states, working her way around the warehouse, examining walls and steel racking and even just what random items were left around. She frowns, looking at this and that, and eventually starts to drag the body over to some cargo racking. She looks up, then back down at the floor, and then starts to do things. Things with her energy. The telltale glow in her arms returns, focusing her power on the shelving she's standing next to.

    "This will do for this one," she announces, absently, and using her fingers and the blue-white glow of that magical energy, she chips away at some of the heavy shelf pins holding the thing together. It might not hold up under intense engineering scrutiny, as replicating weight stresses to a breaking point isn't something she has any affinity with or the two of them have time for, but it's enough to, with some power cutting, and a few kicks to the rack to send things tumbling.

    And with them, an old generator on a high tier. There's a rumble, a crash, and a colorful SPLUTCH as the man's skull is crushed by the machinery. "..what's next?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Well, there was nothing like bonding with an old friend than hiding the bodies together, was there? Peggy drags the first dead man in by his shoulders, breathless by the time she's gotten him inside the building. "...This one. If you need him moved more just... Give me a second." Dragging across concrete? Not that hard. It hurt, but it wasn't agony. Picking the man up to get him across debris? That was going to be a lot harder. Maybe a two person job, or not a job for Peggy at all.

She flashes Ariah a blood-smudged smile across her shoulder, even if she's looking a bit piqued beneath the smear on her face. "I'd say...not the reunion I expected for us but that's probably a lie. This seems about right." And then she's heading back into the street to get the last body out of public. Oh, and take care of her spent casings.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    It's a good way to bond. A tough-as-nails badass secret agent, and a hundred year old vampire. Of course bonding is over something strange. Which makes it all the more memorable. "I do not know how you wish for these to be arranged. I only bit the one..." she takes over the first body, effortlessly hauling him into the area with the fallen generator and the crushed skull. "You will have to guide me with this," she states, rather causal about it.

    The other two dead she does haul into the area, to see how she can arrange this jenga pile of corpses with varying degrees of new ventilation ports in them.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As Peggy gets the second corpse into the building, she exhales a bit of a relieved breath. At least they were out of being totally visible in public now. She rubs blood off of her hands so she can reach up and brush a cold sweat from her brow with the back of her sleeve, surveying the room.

"...If we can get them mostly out of site. Back corner... shove over some of that rebar onto them and call it a day. I'm more worried about them being visible from the road or sidewalk than completely burying them. Nature and time will handle much of the rest. Then we make certain we haven't left anything of *us* behind and we get the hell out." While this isn't any sort of official mission< Peggy's still used to giving field orders. The plan laid out, she ducks into to helping with the one last, tiring part of hiding their mess.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah nods and starts picking her way around the debris again. She grasps some chunked rebar in both hands and goes through the process of ripping it free from the concrete it's embedded in. "Easier than handcrafting a crime scene..."

    She has little trouble getting the metal rods, carefully carrying an armful back to the bodies. "Is this sufficient?" the witch inquires softly, then frowns as she takes stock of the blood and rust and concrete dust all over her front. "I will need a bath after all of this."

Peggy Carter has posed:
It's a few more minutes, shifting debris and bodies, making more of a mess of both of them, but then even from the front of the room, no one could really tell there are dead men in the back. That's all Peggy wanted. She lets out a ragged, exhausted sort of breath, brushing her messy hands off on her pant leg. It doesn't help much. "You...You and I both. But... yes. That... That should do."

She then starts back for the front, nodding for Ariah to follow. Her steps are slower, adrenaline wearing off into generalized, all encompassing pain. It's been a long week and, genetic alterations or not, Peggy is still very much just human. She has her limits. "...Same here. Don't suppose you...have a place close? I walk back into SHIELD like this and there'll be a dozen questions."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah is very good at taking and following orders. Her years as a soldier are reflected in the effort and efficiency in executing this grim task. But then they are as done as they're going to get.

    "I have a home close, oui. You mentioned that you had a car close by? I can drive. You must rest as much as you can. We can clean up. I am good on food for a while yet." she adds the last part as if to assure Peggy she won't bite her

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...Ariah. We have been through almost hell and back. This is nothing compared to..." A slight wave behind them, clearly more meaning the war. The past. A dozen messes and worse. "I've never once, at least, not in several decades, worried you were going to bite me." Those words are said more quietly, just in case there are others near that Peggy has somehow missed. She's almost certain they are alone, but one can never be too careful.

She quickly brushes off the last few layers of dust off of her, as best she can get without that shower, and leads the way out. A double check to the street beyond, confirming it's abandonment, and she leads the way down some blocks. SHe's quiet now, just focusing on one foot in front of the other. When they're nearly there, Peggy pulls out a set of keys to a simple, small black sedan. A sleeper car if there ever was one.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Then you would recall that unless I am in dire straights, I do not bite without permission," Ariah says in response, nodding. Obviously the mook she'd feasted upon was a special case. "Not that I would object to you offering to feed me," the white-haired girl states. She's known this woman longer than she's known her sire, and all three of them had been through the same hells together. She does fall silent, and into step after doing her best to brush off dust and blood, though her situation is a bit messier with the crimson stickiness on her front.

    But quickly and quietly, they arrive at the car and she stays close in case she needs to offer an arm for support. "Functional," is all she states, and holds out her hand expectantly. "We will get you home and we can clean up and rest."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...It doesn't draw attention. It's got a nice engine, though, and a few other SHIELD toys." The fact that Peggy is letting Ariah drive speaks volumes about just how much she trusts the woman. And probably a little bit about how much she's hurting. But, just like the war, Peg carries on. She doesn't let an inch of give show on the surface, no matter how much exhaustion is beneath.

She steps around to the passenger side, lowering herself gingerly down into the seat once the vampiress has the doors open. Bending was the worst, right now. She sinks deeper back and closes her eyes, giving a drunk with exhaustion and pain-endorphins little laugh. "...Howlett is going to be absolutely cross with me..." Yes, apparently their other contact was still alive as well.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I usually go with a grey. Black draws its own attention," Ariah says quietly, but takes the keys and carefully climbs in. She might not be injured, but she is a mess, and is actually making an effort to not get too much stuff on the seats. She awaits Peggy's security, getting in and as comfy as possible, and then starts the engine and departs. "The Lady Riviere will be happy to know that you are still about," she says quietly. The little witch might remember that 'goodbye' hug fondly.

    The name spoken with the laugh earns a glance, "...he is about as well? How many others? I am aware of Rogers and Barnes."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Yeah. I thought we lost him, too... You met us a few times, didn't you, on VE day? We never missed a year, until that last. I thought for certain he was gone." Peggy's now sinking deeper into the seat, letting her body give into the exhaustion and pain. Ariah's pleasant conversation is enough to keep her conscious, but that's the one piece she's hanging onto. They both smell like a blood bath or a bomb. It really did feel like the war again.

"...Those are the main three. From the Howling Commandos, at least. But it's more than I ever dreamt I'd see. And now you're here. I'm a lucky lady. Oh. And Howard's son. He's not Howard but... goodness they are alike." Peggy admits with another of those tired little laughs.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Lady Rivere and I are sometimes reclusive," Ariah admits, "...we commemmorate VE Day our own way. Until running into Barnes again, I had no idea so many of us were still here after so long," she says quietly. There's a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "...were it not bad enough to have lost so many in the war, the toll of immortality is warned in that you see those who are friends and beloved grow old and die while you yet remain. It pleases me to know that is not entirely the case, or is at the least, somewhat postponed," she says quietly, the girl not one to often open her heart like this.

    She takes a soft breath, lips pursed, even if her heart and lungs have ceased to function. "It was an honor to have all of you alongisde the French First. I would hope that this is not the last battle we see together? If so many of us are hale and healthy, and the likes of HYDRA yet walk this earth, our job is not done."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A softer smile crosses Peggy's cracked lips as she hears Ariah's words. She turns her head drowsily, forcing dark eyes open to look up to the far younger seeming woman. "...We can enjoy having each other back and still mourn those who were lost. Both feelings exist and are real. They can live together." Peg reassures gently, one messy hand coming across the center console to give a reassuring, gentle squeeze to Ariah's knee.

Then the question of the last battle comes and Peggy lets out a short breath, "Well... I don't know that I am fully in one piece, but I don't *think* I'm dying. Nothing vital punctured. I'd know." She's mostly joking. Mostly. Everything hurts and mostly it's Ariah's conversation keeping her conscious. "But there is...much more work to do. Logan knows. I suspect there's a handful of old, second generation HYDRA cells still around. Probably a few in the city. That was one of them. If you want in... we're going hunting."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "While there is some spark of life left in us, we have cause to remember, and to enjoy the time that remains," Ariah says quietly, keeping her eyes on the road, but that little smile can be heard. The girl is alwayhhs so guarded, but here, in this 'room' on wheels, it's safe enough to let her feelings out. The squeeze to her knee is glanced down at, her skin warm enough from both meal and magic, but there's still a thin layer of dust on it. It seems a bit of a ride to get where she's going, but more time to talk, too.

    "I am a hunter now, more than many other things," Ariah confirms. "If there are HYDRA to hunt, and old friends to share it with, I am absolutely in. There is no question. Everything I am is at your disposal, Mademoiselle Carter," she says with a drop of her voice back to that fierce, clear cold. "..never again.." she breathes out.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Never again." Peggy affirms the old adage, something they've repeated time and again after the war. It seemed all the more important now. With that, the gentle rocking of the car, and the summation of a lot of injuries over a single week, Peggy finally lets her head lull to the side, unconsciousness winning out. She's still shallowly breathing, but she's also still mortal. Eventually, she hits a breaking point.