The Eagle Eye satellite! Majestic base of the now-disbanded team Fox Company. Its gleaming metallic corridors…its panoramic views of space through vacuum-sealed multi-plated glass…its homey rooms for each member…its insane number of bullet holes from former battles, or sometimes just when one of the members decided that they had to get rid of some stray insect that had found its way into space…the COOL WAY…all of this just screamed ‘LOOK OUT WE GOT A TEAM OF BAD@$$ES HERE’! From the satellite, the mercenarial team could watch Earth, deciding when local governments, corrupt pizza joints, or inter-dimensional interlopers needed a face full of JUSTICE. And by justice, they meant bullets of course. Now though, the satellite was obsolete, the team long since gone their separate ways.
Now the satellite largely served as Persephone Gray’s living room.
It should not be implied, or believed, that Portrait actually owned the satellite. More accurately, she had decided she liked it, and if she stayed here long enough it would technically become her property, or something like that. She had already hosted a presidential debate here (though that was another story). She had no idea what the other former members of Fox Company thought about this, and she didn’t particularly care. They would take this satellite from her cold, dead hands…and she would make sure she licked it before she died because NO ONE wanted something anyone had licked. Please keep in mind that this is the reasoning of one of the most genetically advanced super-soldiers in existence.
Now, Portrait was leaning back in one of the fancy swivel chairs by the window, a bubblegum cigar (banana flavor) clenched between her teeth. She was in full military gear, and was at the moment pretending to be one of those really awful sergeants one sees in movies. At the moment she was screaming at an invisible person to drop and give her fifty OR GOD HELP HER SHE WOULD SIC CAPTAIN AMERICA ON HIM. Portrait had only recently discovered movies. There wasn’t all that much to do while in space. Right now, for example, she was waiting on some space-dude to show up so they could have an epic brawl. She was waiting for him to come crashing through the window at any moment, sending broken glass flying into the vacuum of space like painful confetti. And then Portrait would beat him into the ground in the name of…um…well, there was probably some reason for that. Portrait only enjoyed one thing more than movies: That was fighting. And despite anything that would indicate the contrary, she was GOOD at it.
On second thought, she had no idea if her new pupil/punching bag/new alien best friend could fly in space. Well, that was okay…she had left a teleporter pad that would send him to the base, it would just be really anticlimactic. Though maybe he could bring a pizza that way? The devastating one-liners that could be delivered (with the pizza…see, there was one right there)! Portrait cackled gleefully, and rubbed her hands together.
Aaaany minute now. Aaaaany minute.
Portrait readied her paintball gun…when she saw her new mentee she would promptly shoot him in the face. It wasn’t ‘cheating’ or ‘taking advantage of a guy who probably thinks he’s about to get judo lessons’, it was WAR! Except not.