biorage

[biorage]

@milehighmechanic​

      “I’ll think about it.”

     He thinks about it.

     “--No.”

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ruinaa:

          she’s surprised, really. there’s a question on the tip of her tongue – a lot of questions, actually – but they aren’t hers to ask. she can’t help but wonder why he’s here instead of somewhere else, with his own. maybe he’s like them, like her, but there is and always will be a careful divide between the circles she runs in and the avengers and she knows that. bruce must, too. doesn’t he? shouldn’t he? 

          (surely, if he really wanted to leave, someone else could take care of it. steve rogers, tony stark. someone. unless, she thinks, they’re all too fractured for it, too divided, and this really is as bad as it seems.)

          there’s no one staying there currently. the apartment’s empty, but she’s hesitant, still, considering everything. phil coulson breathing down the back of her neck and eleven and the flash drive she still has tucked away in the back of a drawer at roman’s for no one to find but her. she doesn’t need to get herself into an even bigger mess because she feels, already, as though she’s toeing a very precarious line. it wouldn’t take much for this tightrope she’s walking to snap and leave her tumbling down completely. 

          but – well, she’s never been especially good at saying no to someone who needs help, which is maybe why he’s been sent to her instead of someone else. it’s not exactly a secret.

          “you can stay as long as you’d like.” pulling her bag around to her front, she fishes through one of the pockets and pulls out a small set of keys, just two. “the locks have been changed recently. i’ll need both of these back whenever you do leave, still.”

          her expression softens, still, when her eyes flick back to him. a couple of days seems hopeful. even a week seems like asking too much. “– — nobody really bothers anyone much around here, so you should be okay. with everything.”

    “really.”

     he should sound grateful, surprised, touched -- but all he sounds is flat.. the hairline of his brow creases. is she serious?

     despite the fact that he really needs this, that he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, bruce finds himself skeptical. not of himself, no. not of the safety that this apartment would provide. but...

    “you’re... gonna let me.” his words are slow, as they always are, and deliberate. “into a place. one of your places.” with people around it, no doubt. “after all of this.” sokovia and falling cities and giant green disasters, oh my. “without a single recommendation.”

     this next pause is more deliberate. he looks at the keys, but only briefly, just enough to know he wants them. when he looks back at her, his brow is raised even further. how can she look at him like that? soft. like he is deserving of such a kindness.

     “without knowing if, or when, or how i’ll blow.”

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    charalocator is a brand new location-based directory for all modern day indie rp characters. it is only as good as the participation in it is, so please submit your characters and please reblog to spread the word ! ! see the guidelines here.

[biorage]

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     “i need help.”

     put frankly like that, bruce wonders if this is the right decision after all. certain that he is the result of gamma experimentation gone wrong, bruce didn’t expect the brotherhood to be -- sympathetic to him. but desperate needs called for desperate measures, and without a safe way to exit the country yet...

     “i was -- referred to you. after seeing the pamphlets. a -- safe space. just until this dies down.”

     if it ever does. guilt cools the space between his ribs. harlem’s destruction was a largely publicized event -- and with him at the heart of it.

    a shaky exhale. “for a couple of days. a week. tops.”

          ( @biorage !! )

she drums her fingers against the tabletop once, quickly, and then again, slower, as she mulls it over. then, carefully,

          “so what you’re telling me is….?”

she lets the question hang, expectant, and the look she gives him matches.

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   ah. yikes. ninety-five percent of himself is very sure that howard is lying, but the other five percent wonders at the implications if it is true. put in howard’s friend’s shoes, bruce wonders if he would be the same way. prone to secrecy until he can know -- for sure.

     at least that way, if it tested false, he could nurse his hurt in private.

     “and...” he cherry picks his words, as always, and they come out slowly but surely. “how old is the kid?”

   shit. how to explain. “–a friend of mine needs to run a paternity test. but it’s complicated, ok? he doesn’t want the kid to know about it. “    half the truth is often a great lie. obadiah had told him that, once.

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     after another lengthy pause, bruce sighs, presses his hands together. “maybe... if you tell me why you need this... maybe i can help.”

     “–it’s not… that bad….”

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bruce.png every day of his fucking life

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     tone dripping with a dry sarcasm, and still giving him that look: “what. what look. tell me, please, what look i’m giving you.”

“–don’t give me that look.”

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very deliberately, bruce pauses.

very deliberately, he sets down his pen.

he turns his head.

he gives howard a Look.

howard furrows his brow, now annoyed. “–no, i don’t, and i know that. i just. i can’t–” how to explain? “i can’t just ask for a cheek swab from this person.”

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equally as serious, bruce takes a moment to feign consideration. “well, one would start with a swab. something with cotton, maybe, or foam. a q-tip. --i don’t suppose you have a buccal kit.”

fingers steepled. the most serious he’s ever been. “–but how do i get a cheek swab?”

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The Ao3 Tag of the Day is: The best approach to canon

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bruce’smindscape.png

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the weeknd, tears in the rain

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honestly i think that bruce pre-hulk wasn’t very different from bruce post-hulk... he still flinched, he still was very quiet, reserved, humble yet confident in his abilities as a researcher and pioneer of gamma research??

because..... my goodness.. the things he went through as a child. the abuses he suffered and the fear he felt for himself and his mother, and the fear of his father, one half of the pair that school said was supposed to protect him?? watching his mother die, later testifying that his father didn’t kill her out of fear??

i was thinking about this because of this post... i think... bruce wants his life back as a scientist with a job and an income and... stuff like that... but... i don’t know if he’s ever... had himself in the first place? i think he was always scared, and always angry, and i love bruce banner... tbh