𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨 | in which a normal, dreary, woman has greatness thrust upon her, and with it an instructor who is not a perfect soldier but a good man.
Join Quinn, a lowly I.T. at S.H.I.E.L.D., as her already chaotic domestic life gets throw...
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STEP ONE: ESCAPE.
The stars twinkled brightly as the crickets and cicadas chirped during the night. Even with as dark as it was it was still uncomfortably hot. This place wasn't an academy it was a hell hole, or at least that's what it had become during her stay here. Her breathing was sporadic as her heart thumped violently in her chest. She had never done something wrong in her life, she was never the type to go against the rules (unless they impeded her relationship).
This made her stomach flip and she knew her father was rolling over in his grave. They had a strict curfew of twenty-one hundred, no one was to be coming in or out of the dorms during that time. The only reason she could leave her dorm was to use the restroom and even then it'd be classified as harassment with the amount of questions they'd ask her. By they she meant the upperclassmen who were posted at either end of the hallway, dictating who would come in and out of the dorm and securing the cadets that slept within them each night.
It was a miracle that Lena was able to draw their attention away by causing the restrooms to become clogged, sending water seeping out into the hallway. How she clogged them was an answer she really didn't want to know, but she could only assume it was a sheer amount of toilet paper stuck in each latrine.
Now they were crouched outside of the dorm, in a bush, hoping to not get caught by the nightly patrol. According to the academy it was an honor to stay up all night and walk around the perimeter of the base but she couldn't see how it was that great. She could only imagine how sleep deprived she'd be if she was on a patrol and then had to go to her classes the next day. She shuffles awkwardly in the bush, causing Linnea to give her a sharp hush before looking out across the grounds once again, on alert.
"Should we go over the plan, one more time?" she questions, her voice somewhat jittery as the anxiety of sneaking out implants itself in her chest. Linnea resists the urge to roll her eyes as she focuses her attention back on Quinn. "So, we have to get into the firearm's vault," she instructs, pointing off in the distance to where the armory was. "That's where they keep all the weapons which could help us out in case we run into any trouble,"
Quinn's stomach plummets as she thinks about stealing from the academy, especially stealing weapons. It was a one-way ticket to getting expelled. But she was already on that route, what else did she have to lose? Except her dignity. "We have to be careful because it's patrolled every fifteen minutes,"
"That's a lot of frequent check-ins for weapons that aren't being utilized," she snorts in reply.
"Once we get in, we have to get out as soon as possible because I do not want to be caught stealing guns from the FBI,"
