yavleniye

[yavleniye]

RESIDENT EVIL VERSE SNIPPET.

not fully fleshed out at all but i could see maven having worked for umbrella, trained to recover their mishaps and play clean up. does that mean that she is sent to get cadou samples? possibly. could it mean that it leads her to the village? it could. her first mission was to retrieve a sample of the amber that held the las plaga.

[yavleniye]

Vanessa Kirby 💓 by missjobaker.

[yavleniye]

@moonsmourning sent in: ❝ What we need is gold. ❞ hq roselle & maven clearly about getting the gold medal for their pairs skate

it's exhausting working with roselle –– she has a drive that rivals her own, and for the first time maven is wondering if she can actually keep up. this was always going to be an experiment in team work, in if whether or not the two highest ranked female skaters could get along long enough to actually accomplish something. sometimes she thinks she's being punished; it wouldn't be the first time, but she thought she had left her russian coaches back where they belonged when she had transferred to japan. it wasn't abnormal in her world to change coaches and further your career path –– she had seen an opportunity and she had taken it, and really, it's proven her well. however, there is always a wrench that's thrown in, and hers happens to be the woman in front of her, who is barely out of breath and who is looking at her like she's some sort of stranger because she's sitting down.

normally maven is in better skating shape than this. normally drills don't run her ragged. she hasn't been sleeping well lately; her head feels heavy, her mind clouded, and sometimes she doesn't know how to work through it. pushing herself at the rink is the only way she knows how to address it, and even then there is a captive audience in only her mind. she can skate until her calves and thighs burn, until she feels the exhaustion creep up her spine, and yet she can't find sleep. her mind is working through routines, through every turn that she got wrong, through every triple axle she's fallen on. having roselle around is a means to push her out of that comfort zone that she's been skating in for years. it just also has proven to be her biggest enemy –– because part of her still thinks she's competing. there is no competing with the girl. they are partners now.

❝ not that i have anything against gold, but isn't that a little ambitious of a goal for first time partners? ❞ she looks up now, teeth lightly clenched around the top of her water bottle. there is a raised brow in the woman's direction, head tilted ever so slightly. ❝ i mean, i didn't even win gold with my old partner because he kept falling on his ass more often than not. it's why i prefer singles. ❞ because that way she can control her narrative. she can only blame herself when things go wrong –– she cannot rely on someone else for too long or it all begins to shatter. ❝ what makes you so sure that we, a team that was just built, is going to go into a circuit that begins in a month and are going to come out with gold around our necks? ❞

[yavleniye]

There's bemusement in her steps as she moves –– she likes getting underneath someone's skin, even if it's only a fraction. He isn't as terrifying as the legends have made him seem; he's tamed now, a fraction of himself and who he formerly was. No longer Hydra's biting dog, but now something far more docile, something that is trying to make a modest living. It almost makes her laugh –– there is no modest living for people like them. They have been tainted enough that it isn't a possibility, no matter how many times they've tried it.

It's why she's still here, in this sort of profession; after all, what's a machine to do when she's the only one that is working? It's easier this way, to throw herself into meaningless tasks that won't truly hurt anybody but herself. Besides –– it helps her keep tabs on SHIELD, and whether or not they're still thinking she's as easily accessible as Natalia once was.

"Have you ever considered that I'm the victim and maybe I'm the target?" Her bottom lip juts out for just a moment; it helps her stall, her fingers swiping the card through the lock. The room is coated in red that makes her eyes ache, that reminds her of a different time, of blood on her hands and an ache in her spine. But she pushes forward, fingers easily moving over the keyboards that are mounted to the wall in the corner.

A hum escapes her lips as she slips a thumb drive out of her pocket, sliding it into place. "Perhaps it was never a who, but a what, you know?"

The element of surprise had never been his goal. He's not here for a specific person, he's here for information. Files. They'd needed someone who would get in and out quick, get the job done, and someone who doesn't have a problem killing those that are a threat or get in his way.

In a way, SHIELD treats him much like Hydra. He's better off with them, though. At least he has his freedom with them and well, he needs something to do anyway instead of being driven crazy by memories he rather forget.

Bucky gives a shrug of his shoulders in response, his only response, he'll let her figure out if it's a demand or not. "I'll find out sooner or later." It is the only thing he says in response as he moves forward, through the halls in the only direction he can go. Wherever this hall leads to, that card must be the way in.

"Who is your target?" This time, it is a demand to know. He knows how Widows work, he knows one when he sees one, she's an assassian and she's not to be underestimated. He almost feels sorry for the poor bastard that has to deal with her. "You stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours."

[yavleniye]

❝ people are fickle things. ❞   for a moment, her voice fades, her eyes sliding past his shoulder and looking out the window.  there's a quiet hurricane that rests in her, no matter how many times she tries to quell the storm and swallow it down.  people are dangerous.  even the most unsuspecting person is dangerous.  she had learned that the hard way;  every time she spots cotton candy or hears the screams of an amusement park her entire body stiffens, her mind settling for memories that have been buried for so long she doesn't know what to do with them.  it makes something ugly press up into her chest, makes her feel unhinged and unsteady.  it's why she works alone now  ––  even though she has touched based with yelena  (in the way that yelena is unable to mind her own business),  she doesn't find herself reaching for her phone to call her.  she doesn't find herself begging for a spot on the new avengers, working underneath valentina and her horrendous manipulation.  maven has gotten a taste of her freedom and never intends to go back.  but she also knows that power can change people  ––  that there are so many moments in which bob will have to think if he wants to be bob or the sentry or the void.  of what power might do to him, if it'll taint him or if he'll learn to grow with it.  and that all depends on the people that are around him.  she knows that yelena means well  ––  she just hopes that everyone else does too.  ❝ one taste of power and it can change their entire trajectory. ❞

she blinks and she's back in the tower, back in the space of her own mind and not in the red room, not in the carnival, not in the sweltering heat of georgia but the much tamer, humid version of it in new york.  it doesn't touch inside the tower  ––  the air conditioning unit kicks on every so often and brushes air past her ankles.  something about the place makes her feel unsteady;  it feels far too close to SHIELD than she wants to be.  they've been breathing down her neck for far too long, attempting to get her to join their organization.  they come with pretty promises and the wealth of being able to wipe her record clean, to know that she just has to obey another master in order to do so.  maven has made a steadfast point of not giving them the satisfaction of winning, but it's become harder to dodge them.

❝ i'm not here to babysit.  i was here to get information actually, to ensure that the sentry program doesn't happen again. ❞  for a moment she feels a little defensive at being caught; she knows that yelena means well with her intentions of him not having too much alone time, and she had taken advantage of that in order to serve her own agenda.  but she finds she doesn't actually mind bob's company  ––  she more or less just feels horrendous that he had to go through his own personal tragedy in order to find others that adored him for who he was.  she can't imagine how confusing it is to be him with all the emotions running through his body, and having a version of a serum that seems to incorporate all his worst traits when it wants to come out and play.  he'll learn to control it soon  ––  she's seen super soldiers control themselves after a certain point, too.  his suggestion though makes her smile and she stands, maybe a little too quickly.  she doesn't wish to be where eyes pry any longer  ––  it's putting her far too much on edge where maven normally has her composure.  ❝ yes, please.  some food and drinks sounds really good right about now. ❞

fingers dip to gather her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she slides the chair back into place.  ❝ this place feels a little stuffy, anyway. ❞  a light, knowing smile is sent his way  ––  she feels it too, he isn't crazy to feel it.  though, once they're in the elevator that'll take them down to the base floor, her nose scrunches and she lets out an awkward laugh.  ❝ i've scaled buildings and mountains, and yet an elevator is what makes me nervous. ❞   something about them has always felt too restrictive; the feeling of her stomach dropping out as it moves makes her want to squirm.  maven may be a widow and is used to being creative in the ways that she has to enter buildings, but they will never be her friend.  part of her wonders if it's a childhood fear that had always settled in the back of her mind, pushing itself forward when she least expects it.  

after all, she's still learning parts of herself that she hadn't known existed. 

it's something he's sure he doesn't need to really voice, that he's felt so much lighter since living here at the tower. granted, he can't just up and waltz out of the building whenever he wants now. before the sentry project people would look at him with disgust or pity, but he was able to wander the streets and do as he pleased, because he was something of a ghost. to most people, addicts would never rise to anything. well, he was free of his addiction. his fingers never trembled and shook because he was going through silent withdrawals anymore; whatever had happened during the experiments had rid him of the need to fill himself up with poison. now, however, he couldn't leave the tower alone in case something happened that triggered the other guy into coming out. when he did want to go out, he could say as much, and someone was always willing to tag along with him. yelena, ava, john, even alexei didn't mind accompanying him to a nearby bakery. now he was somebody, not just the shell of something horrible, he had to learn how to live again. purchasing a hot chocolate and a sandwich from the bakery himself, deciding what kind of book he wanted to read and buying it, even deciding what kg of weights he felt he could lift and was comfortable lifting. there was no one here to control him or manipulate him; he was to do things himself. but not entirely alone, because he wasn't alone. he had friends, he had support now. when he bought himself his hot chocolate and sandwich, alexei was sometimes there, taking about ten minutes just to ask the server what every sort of pastry on display was, which often mortified bob beyond belief. when he searched up books to read bucky would give him recommendations. and, when it came to exercising and weights, john was a good spotter. well, the best there was, actually. so, although he had to do things for himself, he wasn't alone.

❝ thank you, ❞ bob speaks in response, unable to hide the warm smile that pulls at his lips, ❝ everyone is so understanding, no one has ever been so nice to me before. ❞ which may have been quite sad, but it's the truth. before the sentry project he was the worst parts of the human race, then in the sentry project he was just a number. now? now he was bob. robert reynolds. someone people sought out to hang with, someone yelena liked chatting too during nights where she couldn't sleep so well -- on the nights he thought she might have been inching towards a drink. he was someone john sought out when he wanted to hit the gym and needed the company, sometimes bucky would tag along too. even if bob couldn't lift half the weight the two men could, he'd stand behind them to spot them, as if he could shoulder the weight if they couldn't hold it themselves. his presence was liked, alexei had said a few times that having bob around had changed the pace of things. he felt as though this was where his life truly began.

his gaze drifts to the coffee he had taken a sip of, and robert nods once again, deciding he wouldn't drink it. instead, he shifts a little, gesturing to the door with a nervous laugh. ❝ i know you're here to, like, babysit me or whatever, but, uh... ❞ trailing off, he fidgets for a moment, feeling as if he was asking this woman out on a date. calm down, robert. after a deep breath, he collects himself and gestures to the door once again. ❝ do you want to go for a walk? there's a nice cafe near the tower, it does nice cakes. i get their hot chocolate or their strawberry and cream fraps. ❞ as much as he likes the tower and the endless cool rooms, it's like he can feel everything bad that's ever happened to this place. sometimes getting out for fresh air and going a wander did him the world of good, especially since he knew he had a home with a bed to come back to.

[yavleniye]

If she hadn't known what it was like to have liabilities in the field, she would've been offended by the fact that he was checking her reflexes, checking that she could still handle herself.  She gets it though in an impersonal way; if she couldn't handle herself then she would slow him down.  Instead, she merely twirls the card against her fingers and ignores the pain that erupts in her shoulder, keeps her stride even in the exact way that she has been taught.  Mercenary or Widow, it doesn't matter; pain is nothing more than a trivial thing, especially when her mission is tucked away inside of the compound.  There's a hefty amount of figures in her bank account that have the target's name written on them. 

Eyes glance over as she swipes the card through; the bullets in the security cameras are going to give them away far more than a break in, but it makes her job easier when she doesn't have to hack into a system.  It takes away the element of surprise, though she has a feeling the other doesn't much care for one either.  Her eyes narrow at him for a long moment  ––  for someone who had once been a ghost story, he seems to have lost the claws that made him such a monster. 

She can't tell if freedom looks good on him or if he's the type that needs that sort of monstrosity in order to survive.

"Mm, is this you asking or you demanding to know my business?"  Maven's footfalls are near silent as they make their way through the walls, her demeanor calm.  It's the generalized feeling that she gets on a mission, her adrenaline coaxed but satiated at the same time.

Another slip around the corner; the compound's too quiet, and she has a feeling that there are eyes on them no matter where they move.  Apparently discretion is out the window from the get go, and she lets out a soft sigh at that fact, fingers brushing against her holster as she does so.  "If you absolutely must know though, I have a target.  Don't worry  ––  whatever your precious SHIELD has sent you about, it won't interfere with me."

"I'm not." Bucky says, taking note of how she catches the clip without much issue at all. It has to hurt but all that matters to Bucky is that she can handle herself, still. It's expected from a Widow, but he had to be completely sure.

"I was testing your reflexes." With a shrug of his shoulders, Bucky rises to his feet once more and follows her gaze back down to the bodies. He doesn't recognize them and she's right, they're low in rank.

Poor bastards didn't even know what they were getting themselves into. They'll send in better ones here soon. It's amusing they'd even tried to send in people so low ranking but maybe there was a reason behind it.

Head tilts upwards, scanning the room. There's a few cameras in the room and with a few pulls of the trigger, Bucky has knocked them out. It'll buy them some time to figure out what they're next move is without anyone actually knowing where they're headed next.

Good. She's got a card, that'll make things far easier.

"You know. You never did tell me what you're doing here." Bucky, on his part, has a target here. He's no longer the man who kills blindly, he's asked plenty of questions before coming here, and he doesn't exactly plan on killing either. More like, take the person he's after in.

If they force him to kill them...well, then he'll pull the trigger without flinching.

[yavleniye]

SMALL STARTER CALL. hit the heart if you want a little something from maven? if you're a multi, make sure you specify <3

[yavleniye]

* 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 : * 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 - 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 &&⁺ 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 for 𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆 rewritten for the mcu , recast as an oc black widow . please read all rules &&⁺ 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 before following . 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 &&⁺ 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 content . minors &&⁺ personal blogs do not interact . written by 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒕 .

⁺ most of the time , most 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, i feel 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 . i don’t feel anything . it is so ( . . . ) ⁺ 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . i wake up &&⁺ i think , again ? really ? i have to do this again ? &&⁺ , what i really don’t 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 is how come everybody else isn’t 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 with 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 too ? i try to find ways of making myself feel something . more &&⁺ more &&⁺ 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 . but , it doesn’t make any 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 . no matter what i do , ( . . . ) ⁺ i don’t feel anything - i hurt myself , it doesn’t hurt . i buy what i want , i don’t want it. i do what i like , i don’t 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 it . i’m just so 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 .

[yavleniye]

as much as she would like to lie to herself, this is about more than just a mission.  the sentry program has files that are missing, people out there who could've possibly gotten the serum and found some sort of purchase with it.  after all, they had thrown this specimen away, so what's stopping them from having more out there?  the more they actively know about all of this, the better off they'll be.  but meeting him makes her take pause  ––  she does not fear him for the void that rests inside of his chest, but there is something in him that makes her sad.  she had been in his shoes once before; broken by an organization, told that she was the best of the best before she was sent out there, before she was given two teammates who would never truly have her back.  the red room isn't the same level of brain washing as his is; hers has been settled into her bones since she was a child, beating her into submission at any given point until her tongue felt far more russian than it ever did american.  his has been a battle of his own making since a child, stemming from an abusive household.  they are not the same in how they were made, but they are similar enough.  enough so that she doesn't show pity outwardly  ––  it wouldn't make things better.  people don't like to be pitied. 

❝ you're wrong, you know.  you are a hero. ❞   her voice is clipped for a moment and she closes her eyes, takes a breath so that she can gain control of herself once more.  he looks far younger than he is at points, his body language skittish at best and embracing who he is at random points.  it makes her chest ache even more  ––  he is trying his best; the thunderbolts haven't actively left him behind, but they can't bring him forth, either.  if he loses control, if the void comes out to play, they could have another incident on their hands.  but she does wonder if there's a way to balance the two out, to give him that same freedom that they've all felt when the chains fell away.  tongue runs along the backs of her teeth for a moment before she reaches forward, setting her hand lightly on top of his own.  ❝ and you're not a burden.  it must feel that way though, given that you're always stuck in this tower. ❞

nose scrunches ever so slightly.  there is nothing here that feels harsh, but she knows what it's like to have too much time to think, to have to curl into yourself and hold the demons close because they seem to be the only comfort you can find.  it can't be good for him.  ❝ we all…sometimes have that darkness in us.  yours just likes to make itself known in a different way.  but there can be something different out there.  even if you can't do the flying stuff, you can learn combat and be good in the field. ❞  yelena's going to kick her ass for giving him this sort of talk when she's supposed to be probing lightly for information, but maven's never been very good at sticking to the plan that's put before her.  the toe of her boot lightly taps against the floor as she draws her hand back, eyes going to the coffee cup.  ❝ and you don't have to drink that.  i don't like coffee very much, either. ❞  a light smile is sent his way; he doesn't feel like a threat, though she doesn't doubt that he is dangerous.  he seems like someone who is lost and just wants to be guided on a path.  isn't that what they've all been a part of?  isn't that the world that they've left behind in order to find their own semblance of peace?  lips pull into a thin line for a moment as she debates her next words, before she leans forward a little.  ❝ a little secret between us?  i think you're pretty cool.  even without the other guy and the dazzling costume.  you're human and you're trying  ––  that's all you can really do, bob. ❞

he's not oblivious to what goes on around him, he hears the hushed conversations between yelena and bucky, the soft jabs that john pipes in that earns him a punch to the shoulder from ava. he's useless here, but he's also the most dangerous one among them. the new york incident had gained the attention of many other heroes, supernatural or just super. there had been inquiries, ones that had been dealt with discreetly and away from him, so that his feelings weren't hurt and he wasn't made aware of what happened. well, he knew what had happened, he had heard it on the news, heard their quiet conversations. even valentina had told him. so when maven, another supposed former red room assassin appeared and was sitting with him now, he wasn't upset or angered by the constant presence of someone. in fact, he found comfort in it. he wasn't alone anymore, even if this woman was only here to gather some details and make sure he had control of himself. which, unfortunately, he couldn't exactly answer. there had been no bad days since new york, not since making friends with the ' thunderbolts ', as alexei was determined to call them.

a soft laugh escapes him, shaking hands not shaking so much now he felt more comfortable since they began this conversation. this woman didn't beat around the bush, which he liked. the conversation had begun simple, now he was listing off what powers he knew he had. flying was one of them, one he had learned to use quite early on. ❝ no, uh — not — not actively, ❞ he corrects her almost timidly, reaching for his own cup of coffee, which he wasn't sure he should even be drinking, but he takes a sip of it anyway and makes a face. he hasn't had coffee before; he wasn't really the coffee type. moving forward to set the mug back down, he gives an awkward, sweet smile. ❝ i can't really do any of that anymore, not unless... not unless i let the other guy in, you know? ❞ the void. the part of him that was so negative it reached beyond just wanting to hurt him, but also other people. and bob wasn't a violent man, not even when he was in the worst state of his life. even on meth, he didn't want to hurt people.

thinking back on what she had said, he rests his palms on his pants and rubs them over his thighs, giving a gentle clearing of his throat. ❝ and i wasn't really much of a hero, if i'm honest... even before the thing with the void, i was a total jerk to yelena and everyone else. i got too ahead of myself, i let that valentina woman get in my head. ❞ and he regrets it immensely. yelena was the last person he wanted to hurt; he had connected with her the most. even john, he hadn't wanted to hurt him, and he'd been a massive dick to him when they first met. he'd been treated like a piece of dirt on someone's shoe for so long he hadn't known how to react to genuine kindness, and to be told he was so much more than he thought he was had filled his head with delusions. so he shakes his head once more, giving a soft breath of a laugh at the memory, the last memory he can actively recall. ❝ yeah, uh... yeah... i was no hero. i was more of a burden, actually. ❞

[yavleniye]

Bemusement settles across her features; she's done this this before, seen the way that it takes a special person to be able to lead. No matter who the Winter Soldier had been, he is someone else now –– and she thinks that's for the best. Perhaps it's because she's a Widow, because she knows what the taste of freedom can do to a person. She knows that there is that moment when you have to decide who you'll become, the things that you'll give up, the way that you'll walk away from certain things. He has found his path and it's admirable –– even if it's left someone far more sassy behind.

It's good to be human.

"I could've handled it by myself –– I know how to bandage in the field." She sniffs, lifting her nose ever so slightly as she follows him toward the bodies. Maven's patched herself up plenty of times on her missions before, but it is easier when there's someone with a mechanical arm that can just rip rather than worrying about sawing through a garment. It could've been worse, she reasons with herself.

She shifts her weight slightly, watching as he rummages, and her arm comes up quick when the clip is thrown her way. Her features are neutral, even through the throb that makes her throat tighten.

"Never took you as a rummager," the words are light as she slips the clip into her belt, making sure it's tucked near her right side for quick access. Her boot lightly nudges one of the guys over, a frown settling over her lips as she lets out her own scoff.

"Low ranking, no doubt. Probably nice little fodder to throw out there to make sure their loyalty is seen. Too bad they didn't realize what their eagerness would get them." Maven turns slightly, angling her body toward where they had come from. Her eyes squint for a moment before she turns back to the men, kneels, and tugs their wallets free. Fingers flip through the contents until she pulls out the access card, spinning it between them. "Guess they could be useful for something, hm?"

They both have been prisoners in their own way, Bucky is no stranger to the fear that comes from those who have heard of his days as the Winter Soldier. Most are but the woman before him? There is not an ounce of fear, he's relieved by it, really.

Once upon a time, maybe he would have been as scary as they made him out to be. The Winter Soldier was a deadly unfeeling thing but that's not who he is anymore. That's not who he wants to be, not completely. The training comes in handy but the fear he can elect isn't pleasant to witness.

When she tells him to drop his shoulder, he doesn't hesitate to comply with her demand. There's only one reason she'd demand him to do so. Sure enough, he hears the loud pops of the gun shots ringing in his ears and turns to look at the bodies.

Bucky nearly laughs but it comes out more of a scoff than anything, "Losing my touch? I wouldn't have been caught by surprise like that if you had told me about that wound sooner. I don't need someone slowing me down." Harsh words? Perhaps but it's the ugly truth, if she's going to slow him down, he's fine with going his separate ways even if it does seem to be in their best interest to stick together.

He begins to walk forward to the where the two bodies lie to kneel down and begin riffling through their pockets for anything that might be of help. A few clips for guns but that's just about all of it.

He tosses one of the clips that would work for her gun, her way. It's a test of sorts, testing her reflexes with that one specific arm. Sure, she can pull a trigger, but can she move fast?

[yavleniye]

@moonsmourning: ❝ I never did learn the knack of flying. ❞ from bob!

the coffee on the table goes untouched; it's just a placating gesture in the long run of things, a simple thing to make him feel at ease.  the files didn't provide much  ––  just a mock up, just something that was supposed to be more powerful than captain america.  that was meant to be some sort of savior for the people in an age where avengers had turned their backs.  it was stupid, plain and simple.  anyone could see that that much power in one person would be a bad idea  ––  not to mention the candidates weren't the best mentality that the world had to offer.  all of it was going to stem into something that they wouldn't be able to control; maven's seen this before, multiple times now.  she's one of them, after all.  not sentry, but red room  ––  he might not have been kidnapped and brainwashed, but he was altered, experimented on and taken from the world that he had known.  it makes something in her stomach twist; no one should have to do that, have to be taken advantage of in order to live.

her distaste for valentina grows by the day.  she is no better than the red room, than the world that she has left behind.  a bullet would be too much of a kindness for a warped individual like that. 

an eyebrow raises; there isn't a reason why she should be there.  yelena had told her that she has this all under control, but maven finds it hard to stay away, especially when this had been her mission for a good amount of time.  she's purposely chosen a time when yelena had said that they would be out  ––  it means she gets one on one time with the man before her, who doesn't look much like a killer.  if she's honest with herself, he looks more like a geeky college boy than anything nefarious.  she almost feels a little bad for her babysitting and slight deception.  the only thing that makes her shake it off is the fact that she isn't being valentina  ––  she is merely feeling the situation out, making sure that the man has himself and whatever this program is under control.  ❝you can fly.❞   the words are deadpan from her mouth, lips pulling into a firm line.  how is she supposed to defeat something that can fly?  that is impervious to bullets and harm?   ❝having the hang of it or not, you can actively fly.❞   eyebrow raises a little higher and an almost incredulous chuckle leaves her lips.  ❝well, you have a one up on most superheroes then, now don't you?❞

[yavleniye]

a TWISTED  GAME with  only  a  girl's  soul  at  stake. the  youngest  daughter  given  away  in the  favor  of  debts;  the  whisper  of  a  child's  scream.   the  biting  mouth  and  angry  claws  that  strike  into  skin   –– plie  to  perfection!never  flinch.    you  are  alone  in  this  world.   the  smell  of  gun  smoke,  poison  powder  on  your  tongue. you  are  nothing,  now  bow  to  your  masters.   how  far  will  you  go  for  a  taste  of  freedom?   will  you  put  a  bullet  in  your  sisters?   will  you  twist  the  knife  deeper?   how  much  does  freedom mean  if  it  is  obtainable  for  the  first  time since  you  were a little girl?

MAVEN  NOIR  MONROE,  a  red  room  assassin  oc,  that  was  conceptualized  in  2020.   a  story  of  freedom,  sacrifice,  and  the  dark  things  that  lurk  in  the  corner.   written with much love by hollow.

[yavleniye]

Admittedly, she's not much good when it comes to actively working with people –– it's been a long time since she's had Katya and Olga by her side, and even then it was for the sake of the mission and nothing more. Putting trust in someone is a hard thing to do, especially when you've been taught to trust no one but yourself and the ones who pulled the strings. Being shot isn't a big deal to her –– it's happened so many times now that it's just another passing thing, her adrenaline always manages to keep her going until it can't any longer.

Still, she doesn't flinch when he pulls it tight, the dull throb in her arm forcing her to focus on the moment and not on the fact that it's going to require stitches, and probably a bullet dug out of her flesh. Nothing she hasn't done before, but it's still unpleasant.

It's more unpleasant that a ghost story is the one helping her; so many are afraid of him –– she's heard the tales. But even as she observes him now, there is no fear in her eyes; there's only a morbid curiosity for the being that he is, the way that he is nothing like what they have said. Has freedom changed him as well?

"I'll be fine, this isn't my first time." There's a light tease in her voice despite the pain that laces it as well. She pushes up from the wall and takes in a sharp breath, pulls herself back together and focuses on the insistent throb in order to level her head back out. "I haven't been hit elsewhere that I'm aware of."

Her hands run down her sides, her thighs, her calves –– making sure that she is free of any bullet holes. When she's sure that the blood on her hand is only the dried kind from her arm, she nods her head at him. "Drop your shoulder."

Gun is steady as she raises it over him, then fires two decisive shots. The firing of a gun immediately silences from where they had come from –– the eerie stillness filling the air instead. "You're losing your touch, soldat."

She's playing with fire that she is well aware of –– she's never claimed to be anything but trouble, after all.

There is one thing that Bucky has come to learn about being around spies who have history with the red room - they're stubborn. Infuriatingly so. It makes sense, of course it does, they are trained in the same way he had been trained. Nothing more than a weapon, a deadly puppet on a string being used as their puppeteers saw fit.

Still, it would have been nice if she had let him know before now that she was currently bleeding out. It wouldn't have slowed them down if she had just let him tend to it from the start.

They're not out of the woods yet but it seems they've escaped their pursuers for now, giving Bucky the time he needs to mend her wound as best he can. He's no stranger to dressing wounds, he's even stitched himself up a time or two before, but without the proper equipment to do that with they'll have to make due with what they have.

Which is apparently only her jacket.

Bucky sighs, the action causing his shoulders to rise and fall with his annoyance. But, he says nothing that indicates such a thing and instead takes the jacket from her grip. He doesn't need a knife, it'll take more time to cut through it then it will to simply rip it apart.

With a yank of his non-flesh arm, the fabric tears into a strip large enough to use for their purposes. "Is that the only place you've been hit? Can you keep going?" While he questions her, he makes quick work of tying the strip of fabric around her her arm and pulling tight.

He doesn't warn her, he knows he doesn't have to. She knows what's coming and soon enough he's got the thing tied tightly and securely around her arm. That should buy them some time until they can properly dress it.

[yavleniye]

a  TWISTED  GAME  with  only  a  girl's  soul  at  stake.   the  youngest  daughter  given  away  in the  favor  of  debts;  the  whisper  of  a  child's  scream.   the  biting  mouth  and  angry  claws  that  strike  into  skin   ––   plie  to  perfection!   never  flinch.    you  are  alone  in  this  world.   the  smell  of  gun  smoke,  poison  powder  on  your  tongue.   you  are  nothing,  now  bow  to  your  masters.   how  far  will  you  go  for  a  taste  of  freedom?   will  you  put  a  bullet  in  your  sisters?   will  you  twist  the  knife  deeper?   how  much  does  freedom mean  if  it  is  obtainable  for  the  first  time since  you  were a little girl?

MAVEN  NOIR  MONROE,  a  red  room  assassin  oc,  that  was  conceptualized  in  2020.   a  story  of  freedom,  sacrifice,  and  the  dark  things  that  lurk  in  the  corner.   written with much love by hollow.

[yavleniye]

@taleswritten sent: "You were shot! Why didn't you tell me you were shot?" from yelena or bucky, you can choose!

heart  pounds  HARD  in  her  chest  and  she  struggles  for  a  moment  to  settle  herself;  sticky  red  coats  her  finger  tips,  starts  to  drip  its  way  toward  her  wrist.    pain  is  a  construct  she  has  learned  to  ignore;  she  was  taught  it  as  a  child,  through  the  whippings  of  the  red  room  to  the  missions  in  which  knives  pierced  her  skin,  bullets  embedded  in  flesh,  bones  broken.    she  has  been  nothing  more  than  weapon  for  far  too  long    ––    she  forgets  what  it  means  to  pause  mid  mission,  the  have  her  own  blood  on  her  hands  in  a  way  that  makes  her  vision  spin  for  a  moment.    there  had  been  a  time  when  she  had  learned  to  push  through  because  that  was  what  the  brainwashing  had  concerned  her  with.    the  mission  was  to  be  completed  against  all  odds,  against  everything  that  could  have  gone  wrong.  

she  was  a  weapon  and  weapons  don't  weep.

but  that  is  not  the  world  that  she  lives  in  any  longer,  and  as  she  leans  against  the  wall,  her  blue  eyes  hone  into  the  way  that  her  blood  marrs  her  skin.    red  seeps  into  pale  flesh  and  she  bites  down  on  her  lip    ––    the  pain  is  searing,  white  hot  and  promising  to  leave  another  scar  around  her  shoulder  blade,  another  space  on  her  skin  that  will  remind  her  when  she  looks  in  the  mirror  of  who  she  was,  what  she  has  done.    just  another  mission  that  has  embedded  itself  inside  of  her.

a  quick  bite  into  her  cheek,  the  edge  of  a  different  pain  jerking  her  back  to  her  senses.    head  tilts  up  and  eyes  narrow  at  the  man;    a  ghost  story,  she  remembers  talk  of  him  during  her  time  in  the  red  room.    still,  he  was  not  something  that  she  feared    ––    it  makes  it  so  that  her  tongue  doesn't  still  when  it  probably  should,  when  she  should  sense  fear.    "didn't  think  much  of  it.    i  was  too  busy  being  shot  at  to  notice."      her  nose  scrunches  and  she  takes  in  a  sharp  hiss  of  breath,  applying  pressure  down  against  the  wound.    eyes  dart  once  more  before  she  holds  out  the  edge  of  her  jacket,  mourning  the  loss  of  a  new  adornment  to  her  closet.    "be  a  gentlemen  and  put  your  knife  to  use,  yeah?    this  thing  isn't  going  to  tourniquet  itself."

[yavleniye]

@vill4nelle sent: ❝ This is going to end badly. ❞

maybe  this  is  a  bad  idea.      maybe  no  matter  what  she  does  here,  it's  going  to  have  a  shockwave  of  repercussions  that  she'll  never  be  able  to  run  from.      sometimes  running  becomes  synonymous  with  destroying  ones  self.      sometimes  she  thinks  that  she  doesn't  know  what  she  would  do  if  she  stopped.      that's  scarier  than  she  wants  to  admit.      but  maven  has  been  a  fighter  for  so  long  now  that  she  doesn't  know  how  to  stop  herself  from  being  one.      looking  at  the  other  widow  though,  it's  like  looking  into  a  mirror  in  its  own  way.      like  if  she  moves  a  certain  centimeter  to  the  left,  the  action  will  be  mirrored.      it's  interesting.      they  have  all  had  so  much  trauma  instilled  inside  of  their  bones  and  yet  they  still  try  to  thrive  at  the  very  edge  of  their  sanity.  

the  slightest  of  smiles  tugs  up  on  maven's  lips.      perhaps  this  is  a  bad  plan    ––    wiping  shield's  computer  system  will  probably  come  back  to  haunt  her  if  she  doesn't  get  to  the  cameras  in  time.      but  there  is  identities  that  she  needs  to  know,  things  she  needs  confirmed    ––    and  targets  that  she  needs  to  take  down.      so  bad  feeling  or  not,  she  pushes  her  hair  back  and  into  a  ponytail,  lip  quirking  toward  the  other  as  she  does  so.      "last  chance  for  you  to  back  out  then,  now  isn't  it?"