Jul. 25th, 2012

labcoatgirl: (thinking deeply)
[from here]

Blonsky sulked in the dark room, arms and legs shackled and stuck in a cold steel chair. It wasn't the chair that bothered him, it was being suckered into the convoluted plot that he really had no choice in. They needed someone with his specific experiences, particularly in certain theaters of war which he'd been in, and few others had survived. Must be quite a special target to even consider dragging him into it.

They'd called in a specialist, they said. Sit still, wait for them, and cooperate, they said. Not like he could go anywhere, the restraints were enough to hold him in place, and if he tried anything, they'd probably send him into a coma again. They needed him coherent enough to dream for this 'mission', to remember every detail and let some kids run around in his custom little dream world until they got what information they needed out of the mark.

But first, they had to hone their instruments, none of this sedating him until he's utterly oblivious. They needed a chemist, and as they said, they'd called in only the best for this job...
cont. )

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Elizabeth (Betty) Ross

April 2014

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