Wasp flushed for a brief second at the sound of ‘peppy’. “One could put it that way, huh?”<br/><br/>Was it an obnoxious quality for a H.E.A.R.T member to have? Thinking back, Wasp had quite the reserved and calm persona as a child. An analytical kid, alone in her slums, lost in thought, dissecting the drugs of whatever polluted Father brought home that day. Amidst the busy hum of the city, the smell of cigarettes, burnt marijuana, petty theft and the constant shouting of provocatives read like noise to the youth. “That child’s lost her marbles. Too much thinking is all Veloce does-” The nattering and chittering, the chattering and twittering, the pandering and pitying that made the itching and the twitching feel like the rhythmic ticking and tacking of her spoon against the pill. Tick, tick, tick, the noise crescendoed, her arm swerved faster, the power spreading, tempting and teasing, pushing and pleading, saying<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">why-don’t-you-just-give-in-yet?<br/></span></span><br/>But such thoughts shan’t provoke her now.<br/><br/>Wasp jokingly sulked as Ghost pulled away the guard’s glasses from her jacket, producing a meek<span style="font-style: italic">‘ohh’ </span>from her lips as she explained the possible dangers. When the sunglasses were placed back into Wasp’s pocket, she nodded and clasped her hands together, placing them under her chin to gesture a ‘thank you’. “Aye, thanks for the warning, cap’n dear~” she murmured, reaching to pat Shark on the back to usher the two in front of her.<br/><br/>Wasp gulped as they descended the stairway, which seemed to loom at an uneasy angle. Heights were ironically always a problem for Wasp, and the old stairs didn’t do much to provide any solace. Once they had settled, Wasp smiled approvingly at the trap Ghost created, before her attention turned to the small area. Whisperer’s target was a suspicious figure indeed - who else would go to all this trouble to set all this up? “How ominous,” she blinked, her vision turning to thermal imaging as the bleak darkness of the room enveloped them, “I’ll take the cute outlier coming my way,” she reported, noticing the warm-coloured blob of a person that strayed from the other guards, walking towards the other side of the room to where the trio had just come from.<br/><br/>Her next nifty trick came into play. A sterile needle grew from her glove. An inconspicuous makeshift drug only known to Wasp (well, besides a few street drug dealers that Wasp had infamously diluted for them), fell into her contraption. Her glove quietly vibrated as some of the tube’s contents disappeared from the glass and infused into the needle. A few drops was all this potent mix took to make someone ‘drop’, as Ghost put it. Wasp<span style="font-style: italic">would</span>connote the word to dropping acid, but imagined that Ghost and Shark would not approve, so didn’t draw to<span style="font-style: italic">that conclusion</span>. Tensing the metal of her glove, Wasp pulled back on a panel of steel that sat on her wrist. Similar to a mini crossbow on her hand, she used the momentum of releasing the metal’s tension to send her needle jabbing through the air. She smiled at how her weapon didn’t seem to faze the guard at first, perhaps feeling like a mere sting in the shoulder blade, before they fell to the ground in a matter of seconds. “I knew that darts tournament in my local pub, that one drunken night, would count for something,” she snickered to herself, looking to her fellow assassins to witness their techniques as she paced behind, readying another needle to back them up.