Everything had been put back onto his head basically before he even turned into an animal. The Freelancers had been through plenty of strange situations over the years that the Project had been around. They had gone against those that were more than capable of taking alien take and manufacturing their own stuff from it. Although it hadn't been all that much common. There had been some alien artifacts that the Project had wanted, and that just meant that they were going to be sent on a mission to capture said directives from those that had claimed them as their own. He remembered one of their missions of getting the sarcophagus, and that was probably one the more stressful images. Just because of the introduction of Agent Texas and that Agent York had been injured at the same time right before the mission. Washington held all of his memories of when he was a Freelancer, and some of the times he didn't want to have to remember all of the horrible things that they had gone through. With the realization that they weren't the good guys that they thought they were. Something that he overheard York saying when he had passed the other male, but not having said anything.

He was a good soldier and followed the orders that were given to him. After the time that he spent in the UNSC military before getting court-martialled for not following his commanding officers orders, he realized that probably wasn't the best idea. An idea that was easily burned into his very mind as soon as he had applied to the project and was able to get into. Now, he had never been the best Freelancer around, but he was one of the top 6 on that damned leaderboard that had broken them all apart. Every Freelancer had their own specialty. York was great with dealing with locks. North was great with using his sniper rifle. Maine was the muscle. Carolina was great with and to hand combat, not even remotely matched. Although maybe compared to Agent Texas, he hadn't been sure what to think about the new Freelancer that had basically come out of nowhere. After spending a couple years in the program, he was able to get a vague idea of what the program was going to be about, and he trusted the program that had accepted him. He had never been given a reason to distrust them. Every operation was bound to have secrets that they weren't willing to share with other's and that was fine with him. As long as it didn't get him or other's killed. During the Project, he had actually cared about the lives of others.

But everything changed once the implementation of AI's, and everyone started to argue about who would get their own. Although it seemed like South was the most aggressive of the bunch when she didn't end up receiving her own AI. Wash was the last one to receive an AI before everything ended up going to shit and the Mother of Invention was sent plummeting to the ground. The AI that he had been giving had been the memory fragment of the Alpha AI itself, and because of that, it held all the memories of the torture that the director and the counselor had put Alpha through. Washington was allowed to feel all the pain and sorrow that Alpha had expressed in a matter of moments as soon as he was implanted into his neural implant. It had been the most painful thing he had ever experienced as the AI tried to kill itself inside of his head. Luckily, he was contained and then the AI was removed, but the damage had been done. He knew everything. He knew what Agent Texas was. But as soon as he woke up, Agent Texas and several other's began to try and break down the ship and it crashed into a nearby planet. Washington didn't really remember the crash considering that he was in the infirmary during it, only having a split second to realize that they were indeed crashing.

He had tried to question other's to tell him what the hell what was going on, but everyone was rushing to try and save their own lives. As soon as the giant ship crashed into the ground, it blew up, something Washington very vaguely could feel himself. The Freelancer then ended up crash landing in the Ascendants. Which he called an outpost because that was exactly what it was. The former human didn't want to spend more time here than there was more than necessary, as he knew that he needed to get back to the director and counselor. He wasn't about to start running for his life, and if he didn't appear back where the crash had been, they would probably consider him to be AWOL and force the Freelancers that were left to hunt him down for his gear. After all, the Director didn't exactly like to share his property. Besides that, he was dealing with the after-effects of having an unstable AI forced into his body. He still suffered from hallucinations and emotions that weren't his own. Hence why he had set up his own routine so that he was constantly working himself. Only leaving two hours for himself to sleep, and it was only recently that he started eating again. He still wasn't exactly sure how to work in the current form that he was on. He was a species of smilodon, around the size of a lion.

He was a little bit bulkier, but he knew that he could run somewhat fast based on the small experiments that he had done with himself and no one else. It was interesting that was for sure, but he didn't like it either. What he would give to have his battle rifle back. Although right now he was just happy that he had armor that covered important parts of his body. The suit itself was only slightly powered thanks to the electricity elementals that he didn't know he had right now. Lights adorning certain segments of his armor and lighting up the inside of his helmet making it easier for him to see. The scars that had gotten over the years during Project Freelancer had translated themselves to the rest of his body. Knives, bullets, shrapnel, all had made their mark on his skin. Which was probably strange to see on the likes of an animal. Either way, it was around 2200 hours, at least from what he could tell on the internal clock on his helmet and where the sun was at. This meant that he was on his border patrol looking out for other Freelancers that may have suffered the same fate that he had gone through. The likelihood was slim, but there was still a chance, and he would take any chance. But did he want to see another Freelancer? Having to deal with being betrayed by an organization he trusted meant that he wasn't about to start trusting a Freelancer right off the bat. And he wasn't the same Freelancer he had once been, the implantation of Episolon having almost completely changed him. While Washington had been walking around, the armored smilodon heard what sounded like distress a bit of a distance where he was from. It was a little bit difficult because his helmet covered his ears. Agent Washington hesitated from his position for a couple moments, debating whether or not if it was worth his time to check it out. Of course, he was. If there was a chance to gather intel he was going to do exactly that. The lion-sized animal came to a stop as he saw someone coming over the hell. It was another big cat. What species he had no idea. He already had difficulty figuring out what species he was himself.

Agent Washington slowed his approach, as so far he had seen that his presence usually made other's nervous. How the hell was he supposed to address this if this wasn't the creature that let out a sound of distress? Well now, this was awkward. The Freelancer would stand there awkwardly for a couple minutes in front of the large wildcat, clearing his throat. He had never been good with social interacting. "Uhh hey there. You okay? You don't look so good." Washington immediately kicked himself in the head. This was the first time that he had openly approached someone on the border other than Caboose and Church. He didn't know how to interact with other animals. The male would shuffle his paws in the grass, there being at least five feet of distance between him and the female. As soon as he spoke though, Agent Washington didn't want the other to get the wrong idea. "I-I mean that I guess for a cat you look okay- but that- I mean, physical health wise- you uhh don't look in the best of shape there is uhh what I meant." A low groan of frustration would emit from his jaws as he raised one of his dark grey paws and moved his helmet slightly. Well, this was the great first impression. He was trying his damned best but York had been more of the people person, and back in Project Freelance Wash had struggled to keep his mouth shut or when to stop talking. As soon as he stopped talking though, the Freelancer grew serious despite his stumbling of words. Reminding himself that if this wasn't someone that could help him on his mission then they weren't worth the time and that he should move on. Simple as that. He helmet did turn slightly though as he looked to see if the other was alone or not.  He was a soldier. This wasn't in his job description."speech"

In spite of the sweltering summer heat, the ocean waves are cold. They lap at Imperia's paws, chilling her ankles and her toes. She is too afraid to go much deeper, but this is enough. It is the smell of salt on the breeze that captivates her. Or maybe it's the sapphire water whose hue seems to shift depending on the angle and the lighting. Before arriving at the Ascendants only two days prior, the young she-wolf only knew the ocean through stories. Pierre always confiscated picture books and fiction novels, so the only books she had around the den were all educational works of literature that only focused the facts. No scholarly depiction of the ocean could ever truly capture the magnificence of the real thing. Imperia likes to visit in the mornings, if only to stand ankle-deep and feel the pebbles beneath her paws and smell the salt in the air. It reminds her that she made it—that she is free from the place that used to be her home. She knows now that her birthplace never was a real home. It was cold and cruel and unforgiving. There was no room for someone as gentle as she. But here? Here, she belongs. Here, she can be who she truly is. No pretending necessary.

A playful breeze tugs at argentine fur as the petite canine turns away from the rolling waves. It is time to return home—there are more herbs to collect before the day is done and she wants to have time remaining to make more jerky to share with Agent Washington. He will not admit it directly, but Imperia knows that he cannot stand the prospect of eating raw meat. Peri never liked it either, but probably for different reasons. Consuming flesh that is still bloody makes her uncomfortable. She needs meat to fuel her body, but she was a softhearted child and she could not bear the thought of eating those cute rabbits and squirrels. Peri is more mature now and is actually a decent huntress, but old habits die hard. Her mother is the one who taught her how to cook and dry meats so she would not have to eat them raw. Maker bless her soul. So, first on the list is organizing and labeling her herbs. Then, if she has time, she will begin preparing some care packages for her friend, if she can even call him that. Peri hopes so, at least. As much as she values her freedom, she could really use some friends.

Slender limbs carry the elegant wolf up the beach towards the plains with the grace of a deer, unknowingly moving in the same direction as the unfamiliar wildcat. Imperia is too lost in her thoughts, quietly humming to herself, to notice the strange scent before cresting the small hill. It is then that sterling silver eyes fall upon both the stranger and Agent Washington. She blinks once, twice. Perhaps this is the Maker's doing? Surely this place is far too large for the exact person she was just thinking about to be in the same place at the same time as she. "Oh, hello," she greets, warily slinking around the other female to stand beside the armored smilodon. A friendly smile paints her lovely visage, a genuine one, at that, but she is cautious around people she does not know. As mentioned before: old habits die hard. A glimmer of amusement flickers across her face at Wash's rather tragic attempt at talking to the ginger she-cat. "My name is Imperia Arceneau," she introduces with a friendly dip of her head. Wash is right, that lady seems a bit confused. Maybe a lot confused. Hopefully they will be able to help. "This is the Ascendants' territory, in case you are unaware. Can we help you?"

War. That had been the first thing that his parents had told him about when he was younger, as he was born in the generation that only knew of the war that plagued not only their planet but also their race. It meant that there would be no peace on any installation that they decided to go to unless they ultimately won this war. It was very rare that there were actual regular jobs that were capable of being held in order to make a living. If anyone was making a living, it was by selling weapons to the military, being part of the military, and so on. It wasn't uncommon for a mother to join the military and leave her kids somewhere else where they went off to fight the wore that would probably get them killed. Agent Washington didn't remember the statistics on how many people ended up losing their lives during the middle of the great war. They had protected Earth with the help with the Spartans that were bit stronger than what Freelancers were capable of going through. It was certainly helpful, but it also meant that Agent Washington had to make his own decision about what he was going to do with his life.

His family was a military family, and he desperately wanted to protect his family from the alien race that wanted them killed. He wanted his sisters to live in a world where there wasn't any sort of worry of whether or not they would live to see the next day or if the alien race would invade Earth and end it all right then and there. The UNSC had resources, but there was only so much one could do with the funds that they had and the lack of resources that were coming across Earth. Sure the wore had reunited different races of humans together, but at what cost? They were close to extinction and something had to be done. Agent Washington had been naive to think that there was some possible way that he could actually make a difference. But was that true? That's what he believed and that's what he worked for when he joined the military. It was a low blow, but ultimately spending time in the military meant that his memories of his family were limited and fading. During his time in Project Freelancer, he wasn't even sure if they were alive, knowing that the planet that they had lived on had been burned to a crisp and destroyed by the alien race. Did they even think that he was still alive? Probably not. All that he could do was hope that they were okay.

There were some semblance of home that he was allowed to keep when he was in Project Freelancer at least. That being the way he had managed to decorate his locker in the Mother of Invention showing exactly what he cared about. There was once a rubber duck in that locker, something that one of his sisters had given him when he was younger as a form of a birthday gift when they were just kids. There was the skateboard that he had used to enjoy riding around the halls of the ship but didn't have time anymore to do it. He had several different workout towels that he took care of, and there were also pictures of his house cats that he kept in his lockers. It was almost ironic that he liked his cats so much and preferred cats rather than dogs, and ultimately he ended up becoming some form of one. It was annoying yes, but he was going to have to live with it now while he worked around and figured out how this place worked. The only other animal that he seemed to be okay was Imperia, as the other seemed to be incredibly smart when it came to most things. Having been interested in his Mark 6 armor and what it was made of, knowing already how alloys were created certainly gave her an edge compared to others.

She didn't seem to be one to refuse any question which Agent Washington was going to end up using to his advantage in the future. Right now though, Agent Carolina knew a lot more than he did. Over the years that he had worked with the female, he had admired her skill, and she had always looked out to him. Especially when she kept him from getting roasted by a flamethrower that one time. He was the one to have brought comedy to the entire squad when they did go on a mission, although now he was more serious and bitter about everything. It also happened that the female knew more than he did. He had his assumptions that something was happening to Agent Maine over the course of the AI implantation. he had never liked Sigma in the first place so the other AI just seemed to rub him the wrong way with the way he talked to other AI's that were in the program. What he didn't know was that Agent Maine had taken Agent Carolina's AI for his own. He had never gotten the chance to look outside of the ship before the explosion happened and he was falling from the sky onto the ground. He had been lucky on his crash landing at the edge of this outpost, something that had been brought up recently. That being if his armor had bent in any sort of direction, especially his helmet, it would just mean that his helmet would be sealed to his head.

He wouldn't have been able to take it off with the tools that were around in a place like this. If he was back on the Mother of Invention he would have been fine, but this was out in the middle of nowhere in an abandoned human observatory. He would have probably starved to death if he could take his helmet off, having no access ports to his helmet in the first place. Either way, he had arrived and had been incredibly confused about basically the very beginning and he still was. The only thing that was probably keeping him remotely sane was the regimen that he had set out for himself after a couple of weeks of figuring out what his body was capable of. But that didn't mean that he was good when it came to fighting in this body. If he had his battle rifle, he could easily hold his own but guns didn't really seem to be readily available anyway. He knew what claws could be used for, but refusing to eat raw meat meant that he wasn't even going hunting for his own food. A predicament, but one that he had managed to get beyond at least. So, this meant while Carolina had raw talent, Washington had to train himself to be able to fight like an animal. He had relied on his armor so far for his protection, despite there being obvious gaps in his armor.

Agent Washington looked at the leopard in front of him as she seemed to be hyper-focused on who he was. He had no idea how to really read animal body language all that much, other than maybe on a house cat when they were pissed off. But this was a different situation, his golden gaze turning to look at both Imperia and Roy as they came up next to him questioning the wet feline. He turned his head back and noticed that the other was moving to the side of him. What was she doing? He knew tactics when he saw one, and the muscles underneath his shoulder plates began to tense themselves. His facial features hidden completely by his helmet as he turned slightly with her as if telling her not to try anything. Even if he had been awkward a few moments ago, he was a Freelancer. He could just take on a simple cat that was smaller than him right? That was of course until he heard her speak. Her words didn't register to him, but it had been her voice that did. "Wait Car-!" His voice was cut off as he didn't even remotely have time to react as his head snapped to the side from her blow. Well, that hurt like a bitch.

He turned his head around and was ready to defend himself. But he knew damn well that he wouldn't be able to stop Carolina. She had always been stronger than him, and this made adrenaline start pumping through his veins. She could kill him. Even with his armor, he had no doubt that she would figure out a way how to. The next blow happened immediately after the next as he felt one of his legs pulled out from under him. Still not used to his body he wasn't able to catch himself in time as he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. His armor pressing up against his chest almost painful. He tried to roll himself around so that he could get up to his paws, but he didn't have a chance as paws connected with his chestplate causing a wheeze of air to exhale from his lungs and his arm being grabbed pulled in a manner that would either break his arm or dislocate it. A pained yowl escaped his jaws at the sudden angle of his arm. Now he was in full panic mode as he tried to catch his breath.

What the hell was she talking about?! "C-Carolina please stop! I don't know how I got here! I was in the infirmary in the Mother of Invention when it crashed and exploded with me inside of it! That's all I know." Wash voice came out quick and in a panic. Agent Carolina was here. That was both good and bad. Bad for him because she could easily kick his ass even while he was in full armor. All he could do now was hope that she believed what he said and didn't actually try to break his arm. His helmet did turn in the other's direction and realized how bad this must look. They were teammates, but would they attack her? "I- Uhh this is a misunderstanding" Wash would say in a low voice to both Imperia and Roy, hoping that they wouldn't attack her. He hoped he could calm down the situation. If he was capable of sweating he would be doing that just now. "speech"

There had been a couple instances that Washington had been forced into hand to hand combat. It was something that he would much rather avoid since he was much better at fighting a distance than closer. That didn't mean he was particularly awful at it. But compared to those that had been better at it than him he knew when he didn't stand a chance when it came to dealing with a fight. If he was forced into a corner then he would just think of a way to get himself out of it with limiting casualties and also keeping his health in check at the same time. Having a suit of armor that was capable of taking the blows for him if he miscalculated a hit. As long as it wasn't the likes of a knife that could strike the areas of his suit that were nothing but the undersuit that he had. It was difficult to protect sometimes, but he had good enough reflexes just enough to keep himself alive. He had lost count on how many times he had gotten himself injured during Project Freelancer. He had been burned before, having shrapnel impale his stomach, have bullets shot through his shoulder, stomach, and several other areas.

Ribs broken because he had been too close to the likes of an explosion. The infirmary got plenty of time to get to know what he liked and what he didn't like. Just because they had doctors didn't mean that they were willing to deal with the likes of his bullshit and would make sure that he would do what was instructed of him and nothing else. He was too stubborn to kill. That was for damn sure. Either way, he knew the situation that he was in wasn't exactly ideal. Freelancers were finicky when it came to killing their former teammates. But once they made their mind up, they probably wouldn't hesitate to what happens to them. He remembered exactly how brutal the story had been when Carolina and Texas went against CT. Connie. He had no idea that the Freelancer had died from her wounds, and he hoped that she was still alive because she seemed the more down to Earth of the Freelancers. Less competitive compared to the rest, the most competitive being Carolina herself. He was pretty sure that Texas didn't really care about being at the top, and instead, she just was and that's how it was.

It was a rivalry that would lead to the downfall of the program. So this meant that there were outcomes to what was going to happen to him. She was going to break his arm. Which here, wouldn't be ideal because he wasn't sure if the animals here were capable of fixing bones. Did they even have any sort of medical techniques that he would even allow to be done to him? Probably not. The next option was that she could just knock him out and drag him somewhere. Although he did doubt that Imperia and Roy would allow something like that to happen in the territory of the outpost as this was technically their place. But Carolina had the wrong idea when it came to those that were around them. He didn't trust them. He didn't even remotely give them any hints of where he came from and what he was trying to do. Of course, if Church was going to give away the information that he was trying to keep classified they wouldn't really be capable of keeping things on hold now were they? Instead, he was using them because they were assets to him. He knew that when he was done here, he was probably going to have to burn everything to the ground as to not leave any trace that he was around here.

No one but Church and Caboose, who were simulation troopers, knew about Project Freelancer. Agent Washington completely refusing to talk about the project to those that would try and question what was going on in the end. However, the worst case scenario of this situation was for her to kill him. There was a gap between his throat and his armor. A place that would leave his throat open to attack while he was on his back. Which with the jutting pieces of armor that covered a good portion of his back made it somewhat difficult to roll over even if he was capable of doing so. Which he wasn't. The thought made him swallow the saliva that had been building in his mouth. He wasn't struggling against her hold, having done this hold before. Any movement would mean that she would tighten her grip, and too much struggling would mean that she would just break her arm or really try to kill him from there. Agent Carolina was thinking that he was a threat. Which he wasn't. At least not to her specifically. If he had run into Wyoming and South maybe he would be a threat, but he was a cat. An animal that didn't know about the powers that he had because they hadn't really shown themselves.

His size right now was basically just for show. She agreed with him. A misunderstanding. Although she could just be saying that so that she wouldn't be attacked. Not like it would really end up mattering because the leopard was capable of taking out full platoons herself without the help of the other Freelancers. He felt her grip relax slightly, but he made sure not to move his arm or any portions of his body other than his head. Since he constantly wore his helmet, biting an opponent was out of the question, so Carolina wouldn't have to worry about the smilodon trying to kill him with his incisors. Then came more questions, questions that he was quick to answer like any soldier being interrogated were. But he was in less of a panic now. Instead, he would sound almost as if he was giving a report to a commanding officer. Which Carolina was technically ranked higher than he was when it came to Freelancers. "No other Freelancers have been encountered other than you. I've scheduled countless patrols around this area to see if other's pop up but no others have appeared. My theory is that the explosion caused something to happen in the alien technology that we had on board. There are Simulation soldiers that seem to have suffered a similar fate that we did but from a different explosion. They didn't give me the full detail, but they are obviously from the red and blue bases. Their identifications are Church and Michael Caboose. Church has information he knows about Project Freelancers and even knew about Agent Texas. I'm not sure how he came across said information." Wash would talk about the simulation troopers.

Which probably wasn't all that great, and maybe he should have left them out just to basically spare their lives from the wrath of Carolina. He didn't have a whole lot of experience on dealing with them, and Church already didn't like him. Compared to Carolina though, he didn't know the Director's name. Instead, he only knew him as the Director and nothing else. He, of course, hated the director now that he had Epsilon's memories. Something that he had yet to bring it up with others. His jaw clenched though as he laid his head back down on the ground as she put more pressure on his arm. He, however, did feel her shiver through her hold from the cold that she was experiencing. He wanted to help, but he knew if he did she would just break his arm. She was debating on letting him up. "Got it, Boss." Washington said in a tensed tone, but it seemed like the attitude that he had during Project Freelancer was coming back slightly. He had no intention of moving around. She would have been free to ask questions to him before attacking him, but he understood her reaction. He had almost done the same. This time though Agent Washington did use the nickname that he only used on Agent Carolina."speech"