ＣＡＰＴＡＩＮ✪ＡＭＥＲＩＣＡ

ＣＡＰＴＡＩＮ ＳＴＥＶＥＮ ❝ＡＭＥＲＩＣＡ❞ ＲＯＧＥＲＳ 『Based on the Marvel Cinematic Universe Setting varies across movie progression.』 ✪ :: ｉｎｔｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ:: OC & CROSSOVER FRIENDLY ✪ ::ｔｈｅｍｅ:: AN MCU CAPSICLE ROLEPLAY BLOG ✪ ::ｍｕｌｔｉｓｈｉｐ:: CHEMISTRY INEVITABLE REQUIRED Ａ`•.¸¸.•´✪✪`•• .¸¸..•●Ａ "This one's for believing一 if only for it's sake. This one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall. Come on friends get up now, you're not alone at all. This one's for the faithless; the ones that are surprised. And this part was for her. This part was for her. Does she remember?" Ａ`•.¸¸.•´✪✪`•• .¸¸..•●Ａ

[blue-skyes-ahead]

↬Ｏn a quest for the “Smolmobile”! A family wishes to stay together, but time and funds for moving are short.  What’s worse than trying to meet a daunting deadline for finding a house? …realizing that not everyone in the family is welcome in the surrounding available housing. 

   Now accepting donations for a 30′ motorhome, or the vehicle itself. Funds must be made by November 5th. We’re staying together, even though the situation looks dismal.

                                         -Click Here for our GoFundMe Campaign! 

Ｄear World,    My name is Xiao Bo, and I’m on one of the most important quests in life: keeping a tiny family together in a big, big world. Because it’s a big, big world, and because we are just a few in it, I need as many well-wishes and helping hands as you have.    I need a used, 30’ motorhome to keep my hoomins in for the next year or so, while I save up to buy a home where we can live together. You see, all the local places say “NO HOOMINS WANTED,” or want more than I can afford in deposits and monthly fees.    I know what you’re thinking, “Just drop the dead weight!” Or maybe, “Take them to a shelter and move along with life.” But I just can’t do that. I admit, I’m attached. I’ve had them since I was a smol, and I don’t think they would understand.    We’ve never turned our backs on each other before, and with a few kind hands, pushing us forward - we won’t have to.    The future ahead is a scary place; we don’t have many options at hand. And, I’ll need to be able to tell them the big news by the 5th of November. That’s our deadline. I have two weeks to reach high and low, to tell all of you how important this is, and how much I adore these hopeless bonds. The timeline is scary, too, but if we face it together, I’m sure we’ll be all right. My hoomins are doing everything they can, though I’m sure they’ll need help.    All donations will be applied to buying the ‘Smolmobile’, so I can take them with me, to wherever we find our place. And if anyone has one in good condition, not seeing any use, this little family would certainly embrace it as a home.             Thank you for your time, and for any kind wishes or donations you might make!

[incoloure-deactivated20190202]

You thought you loved them, but blood stains and you were trying so hard to stay golden

19/05/15 (via 7-weeks)

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

[rosacrystallum]

          the ENEMIES are becoming STRONGER.         the BATTLES are becoming more INTENSE.    the sting of LOSS is becoming more PROMINENT. 

                         yet, here i stand.

      surviving               and fighting. 

                              ι'м ѕтιll нere.

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

pernicious-altruism:

“Hey now, you’ve got it all wrong, Cap, back then, the only thing the biggest technological advancement could accomplish with that shield was make it into a sort of round shape, I wouldn’t call that ‘developing’ anything. He barely even knew what that metal was.   Sure, when it came to blowing up smaller countries,    my dad was brighter than that first shell going off.    I’ve perfected that art, /that’s/ development, that shield, however, was a glorified paperweight until I decided to turn it into anything useful.    From what I hear, you did just as well using a car door for protection, but now- -              You know what, it doesn’t matter, /don’t compare me to him/.      He’s- Yeah, the malfunction’s all fixed, everything’s peachy keen.”

You know what, it doesn’t matter, /don’t compare me to him/.

You know what, it doesn’t matter, /don’t compare me to him/.

✪—Ladies and gentlemen, the baby daddy of Ultron, tbh.

::Possible spoiler below cut.::

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

MUST FOLLOW STEVE RODGERS!

✪—❝I, uh… Well, I’m much obliged to you, ma’am.

                                                                        Thanks very much.❞

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

"What's your shield made of? It seems very powerful!" Nate asked, cautiously inspecting the said weapon. "Did you enchant it with magic or something?"

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ.

                                                I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

         The Soldier glanced at the surface of his staunchest ally in combat. A fresh wash of gratitude - and even a little nostalgic pride brightened his features as they surveyed the shield, assessing it from a perspective that would have been unfamiliar with its vast potential and unique composition.

         ❝They call the metal ‘Vibranium’, a little rare and really versatile.”   

       He angled the disc a bit, conceding to the inquiring gaze that swept over the iconic device.                  ❝It’s a third of the weight of steel, but a whole lot stronger. I’d say “no” about the magical aspect, but I think that’s a good enough way to explain the properties of the element. It’s amazed me lately, how often science and magic end up being the same thing under different names.”  

        Was he rambling? He might have been rambling. But it seemed like a viable explanation. And he was enthused by the inquirer’s interest. He would admit that it was much more preferable to answer questions about his shield, his work, nearly anything but himself or his history, directly. Because she was a stranger to him, he didn’t go into much depth regarding the information… but magic wasn’t something that came up with just anyone. His smile was modest, and accompanied a brief, self-aware laugh.

       ❝There are better experts than me, though, if you have more specific questions.”

                   Not that he intended to redirect her towards Tony Stark. Not in a million years. 

                                                                      —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[hokaiborn]

justakldfrombrooklyn:

The excessive sounds of combat, the distressed cries of his former comrades within the malevolent organization proving to affect the modified sergeant very little; in fact, it was somewhat amusing how easily they were dispatched by this group of mis-matched miscreants and monsters, when back in the day, those same fangs had threatened to consume their entire world, heroes be damned. Jaded, muddled thoughts were quickly interrupted by an approach, and metal digits had immediately grasped the heavy side paneling of the felled machine of war, keen, calculating senses allowing the debris to be all but hurled in the direction of the distant intruder.

It was a ploy, like a violent smoke-bomb, as there was little to prove that the metallic missile would even land anywhere near whatever the hell he had heard, but it made so the Winter Soldier could reach higher ground. Scaling the remnants of the facility’s broken wall, the defenses having been crumbled by a rogue shot from one of the over-powered justice-seekers, Barnes would crouch on a bit of railing, too curious not to observe the outcome of his outburst. Hopefully it was just a random deserter who had taken one look at the Avengers and decided forced world peace wasn’t quite worth it, or one of those S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, as they would be much easier to deal with. 

    Well, the red-head wouldn’t be,     she was a different deal all together.

As such, he would remain in view, almost pointedly, an ominous specter haunting the ruins, contemplating whether or not to dispatch one or two of the cowards amongst the serpent’s heads, now that the idea had been put into his mind. It was actually somewhat encouraging that new thoughts could even be placed into his fried neural network, even if they were entirely too linked with his previous assassination missions. 

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ.

                                                 I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

         The disturbance hadn’t served its master as a distraction, rather, it better indicated to the Soldier where additional holdouts seemed to be. Rogers evaded the crashing metal deftly, and he had tracked the origin of its violent trajectory. Scarce moments later, he stood on ground below that phantom, wearing the form of his best friend, but carrying so little of his presence. He’d forgotten that soon? His friend had become cold, and dark, and full of unfamiliar edges. The Winter Soldier hadn’t even moved, hadn’t spoken yet, but Rogers’ instincts were primed as though he’d just stumbled upon a wild beast. How many lifetimes removed were they, now, from the two foolish friends parting to each face a world’s war?

                                                         “‘˙əuıl əɥʇ ɟo puə əɥʇ lıʇ,”  

                         He swallowed hard. The sheer injustice of what their bond had become splintered his thoughts. It shouldn’t have been like this. He held a hand up, the one empty of the grateful burden of his shield. It was a gesture of reassurance, of concession, of inquiry. Who would reach back? The weapon? Or the friend? 

         ❝Bucky...?” The inquiry was soft, it could have been missed. The Soldier’s eyes scanned the dark form across from him. He didn’t seem injured. Obviously. Of course the other Avengers would have mentioned if they had seen the phantom, before engaging him, right? Speaking of which, what side of the battle was the man once called Bucky Barnes operating from, anyway? 

         ❝Didn’t expect to see you here.”

                       But I had hoped to see you again.

                         ❝What’re you doing here, anyway?”

                                              It doesn’t matter. You’ll head back with us, right?

                                         ❝You don’t look any worse for wear, at least.”

                                                                        Come on, say something you would say, Bucky.

       He shifted his weight slightly, enough to give their surroundings a glance-over. The slightest disturbance could send this encounter scattering into vapor once again. He would have to get back to the team, too. But for this moment, he would run the risk of selfishness. And if he could remember, maybe Bucky would, too.

                                                                      —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[musesgonnamuse]

When your enemies realize they can’t corrupt you 

                                                        or contain you 

                                                      or appease you 

                                                    That’s when you’ll have their attention because that’s when                                                                            you become a genuine threat.

[thefuturist-ishere]

Somewhere deep down in the capricious inventor’s mind, there had been one small hope that this circumstance would be one of the few where the liberty-infused soldier would just opt to ignore everything that came out of Stark’s limitless mouth. That tone, however, laced with something akin to condemnation, halted the middle-aged former CEO in his tracks, a temper prone to arguments toward his own validity refusing to allow that affront to a massive sense of pride.

Which was, of course, ridiculous, considering he was at fault here, sort of. Either way, the enigmatic mechanic closed both dark eyes, a deep breath helping circulate healthy blood, along with healthy thoughts. Still showing his back, that previously raised arm repeated the dismissive angle to his hand.

“I’ve got it, Cap, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you could swim there, prime specimen of human and all, but my suit is better suited for sea travel. That thing really got some distance, you should be /proud/ of my designs, since, you know, I’m the one who repairs and updates that shield." 

The answer continued to be anything but helpful, as anyone would choose to be vague if they had accidentally hurled Captain America’s shield five miles out into the ocean after a random protocol informed one of the spare Hulk Buster arms that it would be extremely helpful to Mr. Stark to malfunction and allow for a nice vacation. He’d have to update Veronica’s mainframes when it came to giving orders at a distance. 

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ..                                               I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

      The ensuing silence was not one of peace. A tiny, irritated storm furrowed the Soldier’s brows. He sorted the distorted pieces of Stark’s explanation out swiftly. He wasn’t wearing his suit, but the shield had apparently been hurled out of sight. He and Banner, they were working a contingency for incidents of ill-executed “Code Greens”, weren’t they? Augh. Veronica. That was what they were calling her, right? Just why was his shield involved in a test procedure with the Hulk Buster prototype?           ❝Tony, I understand. Your work is important, and we all stand to benefit from it. I know that it takes time and sacrifice to develop new technology and all that. But. Since I don’t strengthen my throwing arm WITH YOUR HOLOGRAPHIC ARRAYS, can you maybe think of something else to test out your robots out with BESIDES MY SHIELD? I need that thing, Stark. Your old man didn’t develop it so machines could play frisbee with it. I’m aware that you keep it updated, and you always get my thanks for that. I’M NOT THANKING YOU FOR CHUCKING IT INTO THE OCEAN.”

       That shield. It had spent more time underwater than above it. He sighed thunderously, shrugging in time to the realization that if Tony Stark was capable of change, he would have adopted maturity long before this tirade. He agitated the hair at his temple, staving off the a mild headache that always followed the process of dissecting the truth and the entitlement entangling within the inventor’s words. There was little merit in issuing more blame; that wouldn’t resolve the problem. He could go out and get the shield, himself. More importantly, though, he wanted that not to happen again. He could just imagine the Hulk Buster freezing during its mission to subdue the Hulk - reaching over and snatching his shield, and hurling it halfway to Asgard during an emergency encounter. Yeah, that’d be bad.   

        ❝Did you figure out what caused the error, yet? ...and you know, fix it?”

                                                               —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

betrayxr:

❝You are as naive as you are blind, human.❞

Disdain wryly crept its way onto the hybrid’s face. Creases in his features spoke tails of agony and deep, unrelenting anger. Even the way the orbs that now mocked his eyes narrowed in such a way that already spoke of how fed up he had been at such a question.

       ❝Do you know not the difference between the            malformed and their master? A demon is            FAR beyond your understanding of anything            but the light of dawn.

                                              Even your face remarks that of a                                                                 mere babe.❞

    Intimidation had been fair play for the Betrayer. Standing on     his demonic haunches as tall as they would allow him to     to stand, wings unfurled, he stared at the being before him     with the fires of Sargeras.

                                  He would LEARN what he t r u l y was.

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ..                                                I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

        The ...individual’s answer spoke volumes beyond what the few and scathing words he’d conceded to had. This being. It wasn’t an alien, but it had met aliens, before, and it obviously hadn’t been a treasured experience. Malformed, he had called them. Harsh, but he’d met a few off-worlders too, and of the variants, he hoped never to cross paths with the Chitauri again, himself. Couldn’t rightly fault this guy’s assessment, if his own journey resembled that nightmare.      

       A ‘demon,’ though. That’s what the stranger had called himself. Indirectly, to a point, but the claim was still there. That was new. He was more accustomed to boasts of godhood. The figure put up a good display, too. Otherworldly fires, a formidable physical presence, sharp, inhuman features; even sporting a pair of horns and hooves - the guy certainly looked the part. But, was it a bad thing that it came as a relief? There was something ...acceptable about the introduction. Most trouble came about because a person deviated from humanity, into realms unsuited for a mortal mind and heart. A demon doing its demon thing - by nature and default, wasn’t that correct?  

         ❝I wouldn’t suggest taking everything at face-value; especially me. But I can’t argue that I’m unfamiliar with your kind... in the flesh, I mean. We have stories, I guess.”

       Was it right to call them stories, really? Benefit of the doubt. Benefit of the doubt. His culture had been conditioned to a mindset against that which this being claimed to be. But other than looking terrifying and scoring an arrogance level even beyond Stark’s, he really hadn’t given much cause for Rogers to adopt a hostile approach. The Soldier camped his shield at a low angle; posture attentive, but not combative. He inclined his head in a respectful motion, resolving to treat the stranger like an ambassador, so to speak, and for the time being.  

        ❝I hope you don’t see my ignorance for disrespect. I don’t exactly know the protocol for this kind of an exchange, so I’m grateful if you’ve been patient with any offenses, so far.  I’m Steve Rogers, from ...uh, I guess it doesn’t matter. And even if our respective races aren’t accustomed to getting along, I’m not the type to follow suit just for that reason.” 

      There was no fear in the Soldier’s keen eyes, and the only concern in his cordial tone was on behalf of the demon, and whether he was being addressed with the formality his mysterious race warranted. For Rogers, he was dealing with a dignitary, not a monster. 

     “But”, he silently amended the record, “I am never acting as Stark’s test subject, again.” No matter how amazing gate-way technology sounded, he’d realized that there was precious little to draw from as qualification for ending up stranded on an alien world, conversing with demons. He just hoped that the projector’s energy spiked again, and re-opened the portal back home. Until then, he would try to encourage the massive, affronted entity to remain civil for a little while longer. 

                                                                —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

"You're shorter than I expected."

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ..                                                I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

          ❝Well. Uh, sorry to disappoint. But if that’s the worst way I ever let you down, I’m gonna run with it. They say a lens adds a few pounds. Guess it adds a few feet, too?”

        The Soldier rubbed at the back of his neck idly; the gesture budding with a playful air of apology. Blue sky eyes appraised the speaker with a polite subtlety, but try as he might to overlook it, a sense of dread, of danger and death dragged at his stomach as he did so. The hairs he smoothed along the back of his neck wouldn’t stay down, and he couldn’t banish the surfacing recollections of frigid waters and the ink black of an icy tomb from behind his thoughts. Cold. He was remembering the images of that cold. Real and genuine cold. It poured from her skin so perceptibly he almost expected that dry ice fog effect to strike up any second, now. Who was she, to speak so candidly in spite of the promise of nightmares that even just her presence boasted?     

         ❝I figure you know who I am, by that. Mind if I ask about you?” 

       With a wry scraping along his thoughts was, “Do I want to know?”  Rogers somehow doubted that the knowledge of a name would do much to abate the dark impression that the pallid girl offered. Still, it was his responsibility to inquire, now that he’d made contact. The response her answer warranted would depend on the nature of her words. Until then, he would extend the benefit of the doubt. “Unusual” was not automatically tantamount to “villainous”.

                                                                —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

"Hey, Captain Crunch, would you be concerned or vaguely irritated if I misplaced your shield? I just wanted to play some frisbee with a new proto-type component of Veronica and- yeah, actually, nevermind, everything's fine." The middle-aged inventor made a U-turn for the door, a vague 'cheers' gesture being idly directed toward the star-spangled hero, as though attempting to wipe his hands clean of the whole thing.

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ..                                                I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

         There were so many things that needed to be said at that moment. But if he started now…

Instead, he opted for affirmation. Actually, it was a warning. Well, maybe, it was a threat.             ❝You’re not serious.“

        Oh, it sounded like an accusation, really. The edge of his tongue was raw with the scathing words that he was struggling to withhold. If he allowed every one of the spoiled inventor’s whims to constitute as the last straw, that camel’s back would have been broken within the hour. He arched an eyebrow in reinforced patience, allowing Howard Stark’s wayward heir to at least offer a more reasonable explanation.   

         ❝What do you mean exactly, by ‘misplaced’?”

                                                                —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”

[hokaiborn]

justakldfrombrooklyn

Each facility destroyed was yet another justification to those fighting for a ‘united world’, under the watchful, forked tongues of perfection-seeking serpents; but a hydra would have no use for an obstinate head, it would be far easier to sever its own neck and allow sturdier flesh to take its place. So why each time the so-called Avengers opted to attempt and retrieve their prize in that scepter, did he feel the tug of searching eyes, when it was far more logical to assume that the malignant organization’s prized experiment and weapon had been pointedly discarded of, after he had failed to complete his mission time and time again? 

               It would be so much easier if he’d give it up.                                          I can only learn so much about myself                         from history books, after all.

The enemies’ uniform was donned as a sort of mental comfort, a leather mask, guarding his recognizable facial features, made the fallen soldier more secure, as though he couldn’t be found as long as his form was covered, even if the gear had been given to him by the very individuals who chose to ‘improve’ his capacities. 

They had told him he was fighting exactly for what he believed in, that all the former sergeant had to do was ‘his part’, and thus there would be peace.

A booted foot nudged aside the remnants of what appeared to be the broken debris of a HYDRA tank, leftover from what S.H.I.E.L.D. had failed to recover just yet, as it was likely their heroes still weren’t finished taking out the trash, and there was little reason to get in the middle of a raid. 

[justakldfrombrooklyn]

✪—“Wｈｅｎ ｌ ｗｅｎｔ ｕｎｄｅｒ, ｔｈｅ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｗａｓ ａｔ ｗａｒ..                                                I ｗａｋｅ ｕｐ, ｔｈｅｙ ｓａｙ ｗｅ ｗｏｎ.

         Hydra. Hydra, Hydra, Hydra. That word rattled off of his tongue whenever sleek metal monsters collided with the righteous fury of those who opposed the burden of the serpent’s coils. He said “Hydra, ” because he couldn’t say “Bucky.” He chimed in with Thor, always, about “the scepter.” Recover the scepter. Locate the scepter. Reacquire the scepter. It was what he said because it would have been ignoble to admit, “I’m looking for my best friend,” when everyone’s lives were on the line. The world came before one person, right? The crack of energy nigh unfathomable to his comprehension scorched past his shoulder, as the Iron Man’s crimson form snapped in and out of sight within the same span of moments.

                                          “Watch yourself, Tony. It isn’t a race.” 

                              He sighed inwardly, exasperation directed more towards himself than the inventor.

        The world before one person. That’s what he might have believed, at one point. He had believed it of himself, too, thinking that his life was an assuredly light price to pay to subdue the malefic threats that had faced the world in his time. So it had been a disquieting realization to come to: that there were some lives that he would have wanted to trade the world for. Did everyone feel like that at some point or another? It was such a powerfully selfish sentiment. There was a perceptible weight in the understanding of another form of desperation. The Soldier’s jaw set tightly as he dispatched the enemies in front of him. He didn’t want to be contending with these nameless, faceless agents of a long-seated darkness. But he couldn’t allow his concentration to wane in favor of chasing a phantom.

       His gloved fist came to a contemplative halt before it met the targeted solar plexus of his opponent. The armor-clad zealot thought to make the best of the pause, and raised his hands in surrender. A gulp of air from his opponent’s throat afflicted Rogers’ awareness with the sound of rational human fear. Had he hoped to find Bucky’s face among this legion? The stroke failed to land, and the as of yet unscathed combatant fell to his knees as Rogers treaded past the subdued enemy with heavy steps.

                             Maybe. 

      Maybe he would admit that much to himself. That each time they dispatched a Hydra base, he always watched for that familiar face with hope. Hope that he might find himself standing on the same side of the line with Bucky, opposing the relentless threat, together. Eyes like lapis lazuli squinted against the horizon, patently, achingly absent of that desperate hope. A mirthless chuckle broke the silence, and he spoke into the wireless speaker in his helmet without indication as to his stumbled focus.            ❝I’m gonna check the northwest entry. This guy was helpful enough to leave the gate unlocked. Watch the other two gates, though. Might end up flushing out some tardy reinforcements."

   “Don’t think less of me for being stubborn, Bucky. Be fair.

                                              You never liked my recklessness, either.”

                                                                —Tｈｅｙ ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ ｓａｙ ｗｈａｔ ｗｅ ｌｏｓｔ.”