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The tapping of his cane caused Lisa to flinch internally. Kirby had prepped her before hand about what they were doing today. Lisa’s job was to stand and take notes. Though right now she felt like she was a fish hanging over a shark tank.

Book and drink for the answer to one question.

Taking deep breaths she did her best to keep and straight posture. This thing probably didn’t even remember her. No need to let him have power over her. Looking up from her tablet, she kept her eyes trained on Kirby. A bit impressed with how calmly she was handling Arcade.

"I am positive an accommodation could be made to bring you a paperback book. Though the coffee I won’t approve. Enough agents want you dead, no need to give them the chance to poison you."

Holding her hand out Kirby waited for a file. Truth be told Kirby didn’t want to give him anything. But she needed him semi pleased if she was ever going to deprogram his bots.

"Your chameleon bots are impressive. I have to say they are giving the R&D department a run for their money." Snapping her fingers to get Timberstone to rush on that file Kirby suddenly felt the weight in her hands. Opening it to the front page she gave it a quick glance over. “Of course at this rate I will have to give the order to turn them into piles of scrap."

Turning to Timberstone she winked at the girl. “I’ll make sure you get on that team."

Turning back to the man of the hour Kirby put back up her boss smile. “I am sure you wouldn’t want pieces like this to simply be destroyed so I am going to give you a choice. Tell me their override codes, and you will not only will you get that book but I will personally put in a plea for you to get better living arrangements. Or, you can stay silent and my assistant and I will take great joy in tearing each of them apart." Her grin slowly morphed into a wide toothy grin. Keeping her eyes on the prisoner She took a step closer to the cage.

"What option would you like to take."

Arcade turned his head up finally, letting the lights of the hallway hit his face. He looked older, tired from his days of healing and bags weighed down his eyes. So weak, yet his expression was so strong. There was life in his eyes, sparkling behind the blues madly as he reached forward, grasping one of the bars.

"If you could, I'm jonsin' for a good fiction novel," he declared, completely ignoring Kirby's questions. He was right up at her eye level, his face aimed at hers, but his eyes wandered. They slid sideways towards Lisa, his smirk growing wider.

"Something with a minotaur. I love a good Greek myth," he chuckled, turning his head fully towards Lisa. "You know the story of the minotaur, don't you Miss Timberstone? The son of man and beast, the creature lurking in the middle of the labyrinth? Aegeus, king of Athens, sent man and young, unwed women to his home. Some lasted minutes trying to work their way through the maze, others days and weeks, all to meet the same end at the monster's hands. And do you know what end that was, Lisa?"

At that point, Arcade had dropped his cane. He stood tall, his leg in pain from the pressure but his mind completely blocked it out. He was too focused on his tale as he threw his arms at his sides, roaring with maddening laughter.

"Dinner!"

Step Right Up Kirby/Arcade/Lizzy

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Arcade sat in the dark, damp cell of his prison, head hung low. His hair, ginger and matting together from neglect, was draped down over his face, blocking most of his features from the women except his chin and lips. Which, on another day, would be curled. He was usually so smiley, so bloodthirsty and entertained. But, at the moment, that was far from the case.

Because, really, who was this woman? Some maid? Some SHIELD lackey sent to try and question him? She wasn't the one he'd answer to.

But he could entertain for awhile. 

"Just one," he answered as he stood. His leg wasn't cast anymore, the bullet wound still healing but enough for him to walk. He'd been granted a cane, thin and brittle wood that could do no harm. Using it, he began to pace towards the bars shakily, his lips finally curling.

"I'd like a book. And perhaps a nice, warm cup of expresso."

Step Right Up Kirby/Arcade/Lizzy

There had been too many accidents involving The technology recovered from Murderworld. The agents she wanted on the projects were unable to work them so less trained agents were sent to handled them.

After the last incident, that landed her a new secretary, Kirby was convinced she needed to get the information from the source. Bringing Lisa along was what took so long to get cleared. She needed Lisa o be there to take notes. She also needed her there because Lisa was an easy target. If Kirby was lucky the lunatic would let something slip.

"Let me remind you Timberstone. Under no circumstance are you to address the prisoner."

Turning the last corner she stopped in front of Arcades cell. Smiling at the man inside.

"Good afternoon. I am Agent Martell. I have a few questions to ask you today. Good information will be rewarded." Holding her list out in front of her she adjusted her glasses. “Any questions before I begin?"

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Hello ladies

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Oh, Ms. Coriander. You are perfect.

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Avengers Arena #7

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Avengers Arena #7

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Avengers Arena #7

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Avengers Arena #7

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Ha. Ha ha ha. Oh you, such the KIDDER....

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"You look like you're having a blast."

A woman's voice carried over from the other end of the bar. The woman, fairly tall in a grey-olive dress sat with her legs crossed at the thigh. She was holding a martini glass as well, the contents identical in color and set-up to Pepper's, though her's was already half empty. 

She pulled out the toothpick from inside, holding the olives up to bite but stopped as she looked sideways towards the ginger haired woman.

"Not your idea of a party, I take it?"

Three Olives: Open Thread

She sat at the end of the bar, running her finger along the rim of her martini glass as she watched the party go on around her. It was just another benefit that she needed to be seen for and after a few hours she honestly wasn’t having a good time. So here she sat, waiting for something-anything-to happen to end this monotonous evening of false pleasantries and prying questions.