Hey guys, Some friends of mine from tumblr decided to create this amazing side blog called @swo-rd. It's about a group of girls who protect the world from evil forces set in the marvel universe. We would like your feedback and input for ideas on what you would like to see coming from that blog. If you have any questions you can message me here or message SWORD directly. Cassidy
It’s that time of day again... and by day I mean night, the perfect time of day in my opinion. I’m sitting here with a bottle of wine and thought I’d answer any questions on this lovely Monday. The girls are also here to answer any questions too.
There's a time in everyone's life where they realize they fucked up. Mine was when I was nineteen years old in the middle of a bank robbery.
I don't usually rob banks, too messy and half the time the items you really want aren't there or the items that are, aren't worth it. I was more of a jewel thief, if anything. The shinier the jewel the better and nothing could stop me from taking what I wanted, except maybe the brothers.
I don’t know how I got mixed up with the Rodrigo brothers and their rag tag team of misfits that banded together to cause havoc, and of course steal. It happened about two years ago when I was hitting their house and the state of the art safe they kept their, trying to snag some diamonds that I heard they had stashed away. I got through the safe easily; it was the getting out part I wasn't good at.
They caught me trying to leave, but were impressed with my skills, hired me on the spot. I didn't have a choice in the matter though, it was either help them or die and I wasn’t about to roll over, it wasn’t in my nature.
The Rodrigo brothers, Michael and Xander, were always about money and fame. They didn't like going in at night and leaving a calling card at the crime scene. They wanted to be noticed. They wanted the high of the chase, of getting out from under the police. You knew some day that would get them killed, but in this moment you had to go along with them.
This brings me to the bank. We were stationed around the building watching the hostages in the center of the room while the rest of the crew cleared out the vault. I kept my eyes peeled on the new guys with itchy trigger fingers and the window, waiting for the cops to show up and bust us. The plan was simple and the one we'd be using for the last month. In and out. No funny business. No killing.
I usually didn’t tag along on such jobs, but the brothers liked to have me along in case they couldn’t smash their way through the safe or the building. I was the go to girl for locks, but was amazing with computers. They seemed to sing for me. Nothing was ever safe when I got my hands on a computer and the brothers liked to keep me as far away from theirs as possible, as if I didn’t already know about their money stashed away in an offshore account. I’m not an amateur or am I stupid. The brothers just didn’t realize that, making their bank accounts mine in seconds.
This bank job though didn’t need my skills set; I was just another body to keep everything running smoothly and the hostages in line. It was something I could have done in my sleep if it wasn’t for the new recruits who looked a little green.
The brothers had recruited a couple newbies to join the ranks last month and this was their first outing as criminals. They all looked a little young, about sixteen, to be on such a big job, but what the brothers said goes. Most of them looked ready to piss themselves, their shotguns huge in their small hands.
“AJ, what are you going to do with your money?” Mickey, the only guy who I didn’t mind spending time with, asked.
He was basically my only friend I had at this point, which was sad for a criminal. It was a good idea to have connections in case things turned sour on one of your jobs, and yet, I had no one. I would be on my own if the brother decided they had no use to me, but I knew if the brother kicked me to the curb it would be my dead body.
“Same thing I always do with it.” I answer, knowing that will amuse the muscular man.
That earns me a chuckle from the seasoned thief. “When are you ever going to have fun?”
I glance out the window, unable to meet Mickey’s gaze. “When I can actually have fun.” I mutter.
The sound of sirens breaks the silence in the room causing me to check my watch.
Huh, they’re early.
“Wrap it up boys, we got company.” I call to the guys still in the vault.
In and out. I could do that, these were the easiest missions; I always preferred them to the one where I had to hold an innocent store clerk at gunpoint. I glance over my shoulder and notice the guys coming from the vault and start to move away from the window when the shot rang out.
I quickly dive to the floor, thinking it’s the police when I notice the smoking gun in the newbies hand, and the pool of piss around his ankles.
A hostage lay dead, a young woman in what looks to be her twenties, a clerk at the bank, someone just doing their job, with a twelve gauge shotgun hole in her chest. I stare at the new recruit appalled. We don’t kill and if we did it wasn’t innocent people. I was a thief, not a hit man, that wasn’t my job.
That was my number one rule, the brother knew it and made sure that I was never involved in their killing side of the business, but sometimes things don’t go according to plan.
“What the fuck was that!” I scream, grabbing the shotgun from his shaking hand, quickly dismantling it. “We don’t kill people!”
Killing led to arrest warrants and APBs, something we couldn’t afford to have. It was unwanted attention the crew didn’t need. How can one rob banks when their faces are plastered on every news station?
It’s in that moment, when I was running for my life that I realized I needed to get out. I was nineteen years old and didn’t want to go to jail for a death I didn’t commit. I was old enough to go to jail and not juvie, and as much as I loved juvie I hoped to avoid jail at all costs.
It was hard finding an out to the men who basically owned you. It had to be the perfect job that would leave them feeling good about the take and no longer needing your service. It took a while to figure out such a job and create the perfect plan to get all done, but I had it all figured out.
The perfect job and I get to walk away.
Telling the brothers though was a trial all in its own. The Rodrigo brothers weren’t the scariest brothers I’ve ever met, they weren’t even the tallest. The Russian brothers in Hell’s Kitchen were worse than these guys, and they only called on me from time to time. The Roderigo brothers took care of their own though and to them I was there’s.
After the botched bank job everyone seemed to be on edge, especially the brothers. It was like walking on eggshells when you dropped by their hideout, an abandoned apartment that looked worse on the outside then the inside. The brothers argued with each other and the newbie that made the fatal mistake was no longer among the ranks. I suspected that one of the brothers took care of it, either had him taken out or captured by the police to get them off our tails.
Who really knew in this line of work?
When I finally mentioned what I wanted, the brothers looked about ready to shoot me on the spot. I didn’t tell them the same day as the bank job, of course, I wasn’t stupid, but there’s never a good time to tell the Rodrigo brothers anything.
They weren’t happy with the idea of me leaving, but once I outlined the perfect Heist for them, they were more than accommodating. The only thing they wanted was to tag along with me, I should have sensed that they would double cross me, but I was focused on the end game, I didn’t notice the extra ammo they packed or the way they whispered to each other when my back was turned.
My plan was simple, go in under the cover of darkness, through the skylight, disable the sensors, and security system, and start taking everything we can carry. I even had everything clocked down to the last second. I was ready for this and so were the brothers.
Everything went exactly as I had plan, we were loading the last of the jewels in our bags when I heard the gun click behind me. I freeze and glance behind me, noticing the silencer attached to the weapon.
“Sorry love, but I think we’ll be taking that.” Michael said gesturing to my bag.
I smile at him and slowly turn to him, keeping my hands up so can I can reach for my weapon attached to my back. “I feel like I should be shocked by this, but I’m not. You guys value nothing above money, except maybe each other.
Xander chuckles. “We were thinking of retiring after this score and if we split the take two ways well… more for us.”
“This could have gone so much easier,” I exclaim throwing the baton at the gun aimed at my face, throwing off Michael’s aim, causing him to shoot the glass case behind me instead. The alarm instantly goes off and I knew I had about ten minutes before the cop showed up and we were all busted. I just hoped to be away from the building before then.
The brothers looked at each other before charging me and I knew that this wasn’t going to be a long fight, they were both stronger than me and with both of them coming at me, it was only a matter of time before one of them landed a good blow, taking me out. I held my own though, using the only baton I had to deflect heavy blows that would have knocked me out and managed to use the momentum of one brother to hit the other brother. It wasn’t an easy or fair fight and soon I was knocked to the ground, my nose broken and blood dripping from multiple abrasions from the scuffle.
Michael rubbed the blood from his eye with the back of his hand, and I had to smile at the blow my one baton caused, before picking up the fallen gun. “We like you AJ, we really do, but we can’t have people wanting an out, it’s bad for business.”
I spit the blood from but busted lip at their feet. “How is that any different from you leaving?”
Xander smirked. “We run things sweetheart, you don’t.”
“So you’re just going to kill me, is that it?” I ask, looking between the two.
“That’s the point.” Michael said pulling the trigger.
I remember hearing the gun go off and the pain that shortly followed. Getting shot hurt like hell; don’t let anyone tell you differently. The pain was like a slow burning sensation that seemed to course through me with each beat of my heart. I could feel the blood pulsing from the open wound and wished, more than anything, that the brothers were a better shot.
I remember them grabbing the bag that held the jewels off my barely cold body, muttering to themselves about what they would do with me, now that I was dead. They argued about moving me, but didn’t want to be linked to my death, so they decided on the burning the place down. The fire would get rid of both DNA evidence and my body, I’d be a Jane Doe, and nobody would look for or claim the body of. The case would run cold, the brother free to live their lives with the score they made tonight.
The perfect plan, just not my perfect plan.
I don’t remember how they got the lighter fluid, if they went out and bought some or brought it with them, my mind was wandering at this point, stuck between trying to keep me alive and making the pain go away. It was only when the fuel was being poured on me, the smell bringing me back to consciousness, that I realized how fucked I was.
“See you in hell AJ.” Xander said before flicking the match into the room, engulfing the room in a wall of flames.
I felt the heat of the flames licking my skin, wanting nothing more than to consume me, but I wasn’t ready to die, this fiery place wouldn’t be my tomb. I knew I had to move before the flames caught my soiled clothes and took me down in mountain of ash. Instincts kicked in, along with a burst of adrenaline, and I was slowly moving through the flames before smoke clouded my senses. It took everything to keep moving.
Fire. Smoke. The sound of breaking glass. It all brought back a different place, a different time, a time when I was fifteen and had a family, a time when I wasn’t an orphan. I felt my throat close up and the panic from that night set in. I was suddenly fifteen again and scared, knowing I was going to die in this inferno. My heart beat erratically as the images of the past came back. I heard their screams as if they were dying in the next room, despite the fact I was the only one in the building and my family had died four years ago.
“No, no, no.” I groan, trying to pick myself up. “Not again.”
I slowly crawl toward the door, as my clothes begin to smoke, and with all the strength I have left somehow manage to stumble out the door, only to fall into the waiting arms of the police.
Everything after that was fuzzy. I remember being rushed to the hospital, where I was put under guard, and the words ‘lucky to be alive’, but I felt anything but lucky. I knew I’d have to go to jail, and this time it would be different, because I would be different.
Something happened to me that night, something nobody could explain, and it left me feeling more of an outsider than ever.
My name is Althea Knight and I’m part of a super-secret organization known as Sword. I’m one of seven members tasked with protecting the world from organization, such as Hydra, and people with special abilities. It isn’t a very glamorous job, but someone has to do, and that task fell to us.
The founder of this rag-tag team and the person, who bailed half of us out of jail, an asylum, or some unknown location, is Katherine Black, otherwise known as Kat. She is special in her own right, but that’s a different story, all you need to know is that she could kill you in more ways than one, so don’t mess with her, or us. She’s the one who saw something in all of us, whether it was a thief who could turn good, or a pyromaniac who was something more, she knew that together these girls could be an unstoppable force. Thus Sword was founded.
Now you’re probably wondering what Sword is, and I’ll tell you, but only if you have the right clearance level, some of this information is highly classified, and I’d hate to have to send an agent your way to take you out.
Sword or Strategic War Observation and Response Division, as it is originally called, was put together to help out when Shield couldn’t and the Avengers were too busy dealing with killer robots to defeat Hydra slowly rising back to power. We were the last line of defense for the world and if we fell, you are all royal fucked.
Sword is located in the same spot as the Avengers base, which probably isn’t the best location, considering if one was attacked then the line of defense would be heavily crippled, but I wasn’t in charge of local.
This makes mission debriefs easier and more convenient if the Avengers needed help, which in their case they did, and often. Sometimes a strong woman was needed to coral the team of superheroes into the perfect fighting machine to get the job done which is why we are called. We also provided excellent back up when they are heavily out matched which seems to be most missions.
The Avengers didn’t always like our involvement with Shield business, but last time I checked Shield had fallen. Except for the few whispers one hears of Phil Coulson still being alive and running the new Shield, I knew what I needed too. Sword was to give a hand when needed, whether they wanted our help or not.
This brings me to my next team mate, Abigale Raison or Mattie as we like to call her. She’s always eager to help and lend a helping hand and sorta the mother of the group. We all go to her when we need someone to talk to; she’s like the only one who will tell you off for doing something stupid, which, in my case, seems to be every day. It just shows how much she cares, and for some of us it’s a nice change to the life we had before this. Even though she’s sweet and caring, don’t let that fool you because that girl would kick your ass to hell and back only to yell at you for being so idiotic in the first place. But hey, what are mothers for?
All Sword Agents have to go through rigorous training, both mental and physical. Physical training, for some, was the easiest of the two tasks. We are required to spend at least two and a half hours a day in the gym training with our respective coaches. They taught us how to fight, and protect ourselves, they even taught us how to use anything in the room as a weapon and most of all, how to judge the weaknesses of your opponent. Judging an opponent’s weakness was an important lesson and vital to surviving as an agent. It’s easier to cripple a man than to kill him and we weren’t about killing, not unless it’s necessary. It’s also easier to take down someone half your size when you can tell which side they favor and leave exposed. Once we learned this, sparring became interesting and soon we had half the guys bigger than us pinned to the floor. That reminds me of training with Pietro and Ariana… A story for another time.
Ariana Mars. An enigma wrapped in a contradiction. The girl who makes you think she doesn’t care, but secretly does. The girl who spent most of her life locked away because they thought she was dangerous, but is anything but… ha-ha, I tried to go with that, but I can’t Ariana would sooner kick your ass and fight you than most of the other girls, well I might be runner up to that, but I’ll get to that. She’s the hot head of the group… hehe… and uses her sarcastic mouth to push those closest to her away, afraid they’d be caught in the whirlwind that is her life. You’ll sooner see her with a drink in her hand than the inside of a church, but that’s the Mars charm. A charm that some of us find hard to endure, but we love her anyone. The girl reborn from the ashes finally found herself a place to call home.
The mental training for some, like me and Mattie, and the power training for others, was harder than I would have thought. On the days we had off from the gym, which were few and far between, we were required to train using our power.
Did I forget to mention that the seven of us were special, extraordinary, something never seen before and should be looked upon like the goddesses we are? No? Must have slipped my mind.
Like I was saying, on the days when we weren’t in the gym, beating our knuckles bloody, we were honing our powers, trying to gain as much control as possible. This took longer than the actual training did, and even the little control you may have had over them could be gone in a day. It’s a long and hard process, knowing you could work miracles one day and find the next you were nothing more than glorified pin cushion. It was frustrating.
But Maxine Madulin took it all in stride, the trooper. Max, as I like to call her, or Maxy when I’m trying to piss her off, it sadly never works, takes everything as one big joke. She’ll laugh it all off with a smile and give some joke in return, trying to diffuse the situation. Not the best way to deal with the troubles in one’s life, but it was better than drinking and getting into bar fights, which is what I tend to do. No, Max was all about being the silly one, the kid of the group, because she’s didn’t want anyone to see how broken she was. How she was slowly falling apart each day. I wish I could tell her she’s not alone in this, that she’s not the only one falling apart. That we are all slowing dealing with our own troubles, but I know that will scare her away, my powers tend to do that.
Power training wasn’t the weirdest thing about Sword; the weirdest thing would probably be the ex-Hydra alien we keep locked in the basement. And by locked I mean free to go and by basement I mean her room. She’s still an alien. That never changed, neither did the ex-Hydra agent, but that’s something she’ll have to tell you herself.
Celestia Zarkoff the alien from outer fucking space. I don’t even know if I should go into details about her, all you really need to know is in the first sentence. Then again, as I have learned from being part of this team, nothing is quite like it seems. Though Celest is from another planet, she looks remarkable like everyone else making her the perfect spy, if she was reporting home to her family. That wasn’t the case, Earth is her prison, the place she was banished too when she went against her father. She doesn’t always get Earth customs and needs help with idioms, but makes up for it in charm and wit. As well as brains, man that girl can read. That’s all I think I’ve ever seen her do. The whole Hydra thing, well that’s something I can’t tell you, you should talk to her about it.
On the days that we had off, which were a rare as water in a desert, are spent doing whatever we liked. Some of the girls liked to veg around the base, while other took the time to catch up on a good book. Me personally, liked to catch up on my drinking and tended to go bar hopping, but with mother Mattie looking out for us, it wasn’t as often as it used to be.
That brings me to the final member of the team. Arabella Rowe. Bella preferred to spend her off time in the gym. A day off and she could go anywhere and she chooses the one place we spent the majority of our time. I didn’t get it, but it was her time to do what she wanted. Sometimes you find her training harder than before, as if she had a personal grudge against the punching back, other times you’ll find her dancing around the room in perfect harmony to the music. Her moves are always fluid, as if they were an extension to her body, and some of these moves made their way into training, allowing Bella to be more graceful than half of us. She jokes that she’s only in the gym to get ahead of us, but I know it’s the one place she can get out her anger and frustration about her parents. If only she’d talk to us, she’d know we all have similar stories.
That’s my team and the basics you need to know about Sword. There are plenty of other things Sword does that I could go into but I’ve reached the point in time where I don’t care anymore. Fury wanted a report so here’s the goddamn report. Hopefully it’s what you’re looking for.
EDIT: Apparently I forgot to describe myself, don’t know why that matters. Alright here it goes: I use to be a thief.
EDIT EDIT: Fury handed me my report back and told me that I need to be more descriptive. So here is my second attempt:
My name is Althea Knight, but my friends call me Thea. If you aren’t my friend you can call me AJ.
I have a drinking problem and gambling problem that tends to get out of control when I drink. I spent six years in jail before Sword took my sorry ass from the six by eight room and constant routine and threw me together with a group of women who never worked well with others, hoping we would be team. I spend my off time drinking to forget of the things I’ve done before I found purpose, before I found something I could do to help others, instead of helping myself. I think that’s what Sword has given me. A family that loves me for me, and accepts my past. The good and the bad, something I was seriously lacking for most of my life. I finally found a place to call home.
