“Are you saying I don’t have the potential to be hardcore? ‘Cause you’re probably right. I’m the definition of a sissy. Also, should I be prepared for the agents to go wild? To invite me to 80′s style dance parties? To kick my ass? To offer me strong drugs and then hypnotise me so I couldn’t refuse? I’m kinda lost here.” Ava noticed the distance between them decreasing. It didn’t bother her that much, but she thought it would probably be both polite and mitigating to invite the woman in. “I probably shouldn’t keep you waiting at the door, so would you like to enter my humble palace? Damn, ignore how wrong that sounded… I just realised I don’t even know your name.”
“Everyone has the potential to be hardcore, but drinking meth-infused things isn’t the way to go. If you want to, you can just fill a Smirnoff bottle with water, go outside and down it in front of everyone. Street cred.”
“Shit. Sorry. Sorry again for swearing. Actually, I’m not sorry, but S.H.I.E.L.D.’s like Big Brother and I’m supposed to be a good influence. I’m Skye.”
Ava finally took time to look up from her toes and make dreaded eye contact with the rather cheery being in front of her. “Yeah, I guess ten does seem a bit excessive. I could probably come through with five per hour.” Ava winced at the thought, she hated the sickly sweet taste of energy drinks, she hated the feeling of her heart pounding up her throat, setting off all kinds of anxious, paranoid ideas. She quickly shook off the thought and refocused on the woman at the door. “You are one of our professors, aren’t you?” she asked, immediately realising she probably came off as rude.
“Don’t. I heard it was the sciences DIY version of Red Bull, so they probably added some liquid meth to the original recipe. If this looks like a horrible idea to me - and I’ve done some fucked up things -, you shouldn’t even consider it.” The question Ava asked next put an end to Skye’s mental debate on whether she should stop making the girl uncomfortable and leave or stay and make her uncomfortable to the extent that she’d eventually forget what discomfort even was. Once again, she gave herself permission to move freely, taking a couple of small steps towards the girl.
“You could say that, yeah. It’s really not as glamorous as it sounds. Coulson was invited to assist with running the Academy, Fitzsimmons are basically local deities and even Ward knows his way around this place, so they had nothing else to do with me. Don’t know how that could go wrong.”
Ava was caught off guard as someone entered her view. “Aww dang it, I would have loved a tacky T-shirt or maybe even one of those foam hands but I guess a tablet will have to do. And yes, I’m Ava.” As flustered as she was, the girl tried to invoke a warm smile.
The expression faded quickly as she realised she was unintentionally creating an awkward silence (as always) and her gaze was soon targeted at the floor (as always).
“You know, using this tablet for too long might give you a foam hand. It’s a win-win.” Cracking a lazy smile at Ava’s sudden interest in the floor (though Skye couldn’t deny it was impressively shiny), she leant against the door frame, folding her arms over her chest to seem more approachable. “You’re in comms, huh? Don’t let them tell you downing ten cans of Red Bull in an hour is a new viral drinking game. It’s not.”
Ava sat on the floor midst all of her boxes, baffled. “I’m gonna make a garbage dump out of this room, aren’t I… Maybe I should just… leave the boxes be?” Ava thought to herself. “I mean, I don’t have a roommate, at least not yet, and I don’t think anyone would want to come see poor little Ava anyway, so no one would ever know? Yes, a 10/10 plan indeed.” One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to start unpacking. Not having much else to do, she opened the door to the hallway.
007. 007. 006? No, 007. As it turned out, roaming the Academy in order to familiarise herself with it made her more vulnerable to getting tasks unrelated to her actual job from higher-ups. Or, maybe it was, as she was trying to navigate floor zero with nothing but a tablet (a device very related to her actual job) in one hand and an energy drink in the other. She was getting better at the whole not looking like a tourist thing, and a sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she found the door to 007 wide open. With a few light knocks against it, Skye gave herself the liberty to enter even before the room owner could declare their verdict.
“Ava Santini? I have your personalised S.H.I.E.L.D. merch. And by that I mean they’re giving out tablets.”
