The moniker was rapidly spreading throughout the criminal underground like a disease, causing mass hysteria within certain individuals. Very few knew of its origins but research and meticulous manoeuvres meant Lucien was an exception. Rollins had been effortless, he’d plucked him from the confines of his so called safe-house, receiving a butt of a gun for the pleasure. ( Rumlow? Not so much. ) He’d always been capable of exploiting the vulnerable, of covering his tracks. The Navy taught its recruits every technique known to man. Elusive was an understatement. He’d gone off grid, operating only in the shadows, but that suited Lucien fine. The commander wasn’t the only one capable of being evasive. HYDRA had not been his first rodeo either. They’d merely wormed their way in when he was at his most vulnerable, rendering him into a villainous victim. In a sense they’d woken him up. After tragedy had struck he’d never been quite the same. He’d been consumed by his own affliction. Guilt really was a killer wasn’t it?
Yet his eyes were now wide open. HYDRA had been naive. How could they break what had never been whole in the first place? Sure they’d managed to fracture a piece of him away. Managed to provoke the monster within, but they hadn’t understood they were in the process of producing their own undoing. ( Humans were nothing, if not arrogant. Which brought him back to Rumlow. The egotistical bastard. ) Hands balled into fists, staring at the shadowed figure in the confines of the cell. Rollins was convinced he had perished, being burned alive. Bless his soul. So naive. So suffocated in grief that he cared very little about his captivity and yet where was the fun in that? Tongue swiped his teeth, observing every twitch of muscle, bemused by his suffering. It was kind of perfect wasn’t it? Giving them all a taste of their own medicine. Satisfying in that sort of sick way. Not that they didn’t deserve it.
They’d been more than content to prod and poke those in their custody. He’d lost count of the times some agent had tried their luck with him, inserting their finger into his cage. How could he have been responsible for following instinct? He’d never been taught anything but cruelty. Being gentle did not come naturally, especially when trapped in a corner. ( He’d paid the price of course for their blunders, and ah yes, he still had nightmares about that. Not even he was immune to torture. ) Bastards. What had given them the right to think they were above him? To kick him into place and force him to the ground? They were simple-minded, mortal. To him they were in a blip in time. A snippet of existence. Did they honestly believe they could even comprehend his power? Rage kindled, distracting him momentarily and he was thankful to see Rollins spasm, bringing him back to Earth.
Footsteps echoed on the floor as he made his way across the basement, clearing his throat, and when that didn’t work? He had the audacity to take off his Louboutin and throw it at him. Jack woke with a start, bleary eyes, disgruntled to say the least, and he stepped through the force-field and retrieved his shoe with a knowing look in his direction. ( Another nightmare. The stench of his sweat was proof of that, it dripped down his forehead, and he looked cold and clammy. ) For a moment Lucien considered loosening the cuffs around his wrists and giving him some respite, though the hurled insult that was shot his way, took away that consideration of mercy, causing him instead to growl at him. Fucking humans. So ungrateful for what they had. Flipping him off, he checked him over, ignoring his spitting.
A roll of his eyes followed, quick to leave him once sure he’d not harmed himself, and for his own benefit he pressed the panel which triggered the sedative gas, deciding it would be better for him to sleep deep while he was away. Naturally the buffoon attempted to react, to fight it, but the never-ending abyss took him, before he could do too much damage and Lucien was free to proceed with his next plan, extracting intel from another who wouldn’t be so lucky. ( In fact by the time he’d finished with them, he was covered in blood, and had to get changed, their screams having been drowned out by the sound proof walls. ) Not that he gave a fuck, having gotten what he wanted. The last piece of the puzzle. Time to move then. Decision made, he focused on transporting himself out of his own sanctuary, landing abruptly back on Earth. Right next to –
Lovely. Well he certainly didn’t forget his manners did he? Lucien’s gaze bore into the riff-raff who was attempting to challenge him, a casual wave of his hand sending him flying, without a word. Oops. Of course now they came - Rumlow’s so called guards. Such a pity. ( A smirk graced his lips, making quick work of them, leaving them lined up against the wall, pocketing one of their guns as a souvenir and simply because he could. ) Eventually reaching his destination, he booted in the reinforced door, dismantling the trip wire before it could blow him to kingdom come and surveyed his surroundings with a hum of approval, appreciating the architecture and most of all the weapons - his weakness really.
‘Impressive, no human would have been able to enter here, hm? Did HYDRA teach you that old boy?’
Sure. Dismantling the cannon fodder had been a piece of cake, though finding himself face to face with the so-called terrorist himself, his original intentions of just talking to him, all but evaporated. Fuck it. ( With a movement that couldn’t be anticipated, he appeared behind him; refraining from snapping his neck, as the syringe of specialised tranquilizer plunged into the back of his throat, the whispered ‘night night’ enough to send shivers down the spine. ) His grip was like a vice, squeezing like a cobra would a rodent and he didn’t loosen his hold until he felt him slump. Even then he didn’t relax, wasting no time in taking his prize.
They landed back at the Lake House, and he slipped the needle from his flesh, disposing of it in a sharps bin, before inspecting him. He hadn’t assumed he would be in great shape, and his suspicions were confirmed, a sigh departing into the air, grabbing his med-pack. ( While Rumlow was out for the count, he worked, patching up what injuries he could before hauling him into the glass prison. Jack was still slumped, peaceful enough, and Lucien fastened the same gear to Brock, the cuffs HYDRA’s own. ) Propping up the ex-commander, he restrained him effectively, keeping his leash tight figuratively at least, before stepping out of the cell, and well it was several hours later when he released the valve, enabling him to come back to consciousness slowly. Though a slap to his face was given to aid this, ignoring Rollins’s sleepy babbles nearby. The other having cocooned himself into a ball.
‘Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. Someone’s been missing you.’
