4: disparit.y

t h i s . i s . w h a t . y o u S.W.O.R.D. OC #hadtogive nsfw-heavy non-selective about | verses | tags   w e r e . m a d e . f o r

[strayskin-blog]

(( itty bitty starter call ))

[strayskin-blog]

sunspotnitentia

        "No, I just-- I got lost. This isn’t the main deck?”

[strayskin-blog]

hibernamilitis

    Hushes himself, secretly-- the scraping at the window in an attempt to pry it open is entirely benevolent. It’s raining, and he just wants in.

[oncearussianasp]

   Nova shifted against the door and took a long drag from his cigarette when Martin’s voice jarred him from his thoughts.

       “Go away, Martin.” The words were swathed in smoke as they left the young man’s mouth before he exhaled forcefully and scattered the ribbons of silky gray. “I’m fine.”

[strayskin-blog]

    “That doesn’t work on me.” Martin muttered, as though reminding himself and then, louder, “That doesn’t work on me!”

    “Either you open this door and we talk or I sit out here until you forget and trip over me when you open it. Either way, I’m not leaving.”

[strayskin-blog]

hadtogive --> strayskin

(( necessary change of url! the original one no longer applies. ))

[strayskin-blog]

hadtogive --> strayskin

(( necessary change of url! the original one no longer applies. ))

[bandaidsandbattlestaves-blog]

She wants him to be terrified, wants him to know that if he puts a single toe outside of the line that she will kill him, right then and there for being a traitor. She wouldn’t even spend any time in jail. 

She looks at the gun in the box. It’s not…that’s not true, she’s seen those guns before, 100% skrull, probably from the war. They still had them? 

She looks back up at him, trying to figure out what exactly was going on through his head, her face still, calculating. She didn’t understand, why give someone who has threatened to kill you, something to kill you with? 

She doesn’t reach for it, doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. 

“Why…would you give me something that I could kill you with? That’s the fucking weirdest peace—” She pauses, looking at him, meeting his eyes for a moment, no malice, just confusion, realization. 

“you..don’t have peace offerings.” the words are very very quiet, almost a whisper. 

[strayskin-blog]

    When he’d gotten this idea, the best case scenario was getting another bullet in the other knee. In fact, it was a miracle he’d decided to go for it instead of dropping it altogether and just resuming his place of sneaking around and trying to dodge Morse whenever she was in the building.

    Anger was what he’d prepared for. This was not what he’d prepared for. So he was speechless, initially, startled by Morse’s less-than-violent reaction. His brain ran into a speedbump and didn’t immediately recover. It was a miracle he didn’t lose control of the muscles holding his mouth shut. Still, the human-shaped Skrull held a very wide-eyed expression as he fought for something that would work as a next step.

    “Um.” He still had the box held out, half because his muscles were locked in fear and half because he just wanted her to take it. “No, we don’t. Look, I just--”

         “--please just take it so I can leave.”

[bandaidsandbattlestaves-blog]

She’s never going to trust him. One skrull is one skrull too many. They took everything from her.

“I’m not ever going to not hate you, unless I’m dead, and I doubt you’d be dumb enough to try and kill me here. What’s inside?” 

[strayskin-blog]

    Unfortunately, he’s not far enough on the ball to fully realize just how impossible this quest has been from the start. It wasn’t so much that he really wanted her forgiveness, just that.. he freaked for his life every time she looked in his direction.

    “It’s just--” He fumbled, trying not to let what little courage he’d collected just shatter. The box lid dropped frantically to the ground. Inside sat an old pistol, although it wasn’t anything like the weaponry found on Earth. “It’s.. SWORD was emptying out some old outdated stores, and you.. like.. shooting people you don’t like, so..... please don’t shoot me with it.”

[strayskin-blog]

bandaidsandbattlestaves

    Oh, he remembered. No need for the reminder, Bobbi-- he thought of you and your gun with every other step.

         “Because it’s not fun to be hated and I want to try to stop the evil glares.”

[strayskin-blog]

(( angst )) so that's what a gun does // Loki & Trygve

[oncedeadliesmith-archive-blog]

     The eyes looked more like Martin’s now. The tension in Loki’s shoulders waned as the skin of the other flickered to the tone the trickster was used to. He still didn’t know if this was some shifter that took the shape of Martin, or if Martin was a shifter. Either way, he would have answers before the day was done.

     ”I do not hate you,” Loki said calmly, keeping his eyes on the other, still wary despite the man’s shaky confessions.

     ”I acted hastily. I was afraid—” the trickster did not often admit his fears, and he paused for a moment before relenting to tell the truth, “—that you were going to do something drastic to yourself. I could not lose you. Not like that. Never like that. I do not know if that was your intention—”

     He stopped himself before his words would tumble too quickly and spill into cacophony. His green magic seeped slowly from his own hands into Martin’s still-green hands. The magic laced his skin back together and stopped the bleeding, numbing the affected area to quell any pain or discomfort.

     ”What—exactly—are you?”

     Loki could have used gentler words.

[strayskin-blog]

    The reassurance was nice, but those eyes still seemed unwilling to believe that Loki could forgive him for such a thing. He’d gone forward with what could have been intent to kill-- if Loki hadn’t drawn blood first..

    What exactly are you? It wasn’t a “who”, was it? The choice of word made the SWORD agent flinch just as the green magic splashed onto his skin, and by then, the green reptilian texture was all but gone, and he looked entirely like good ol’ Martin. Didn’t matter-- he still was nothing but a “what”.

    But, no-- Martin remembered a time not so long ago, when he’d dropped down into a dark alley to confront his friend. That friend had been mad with violence, had already taken the lives of one or two unlucky humans. Had seemed entirely ready to take his life, too, had he not been able to talk him down. So how could the trickster fault him for this? It wasn’t fair.

    He didn’t answer, for a long moment, two, three, and it seemed as though he might not offer one at all. The look in his eyes had gone from terrified to bitter in less time. When he did speak, it was quiet, not like him at all.

         “’m a Skrull. That’s what.”

[agentbrompton]

She came to the door in her robe, peeking through the spyhole first before hurrying to open it for him.  ”Martin….oh my gods, Martin what’s happened?  Come in…..come on.”  She took his free arm and gently guided him into the apartment, growing more alarmed to really see all the blood.

"Come sit down, tell me what you can?  Let me get some towels."

[strayskin-blog]

    The SWORD agent followed the tugging on his arm and moved in after her, uncharacteristically silent and lacking the usual bubble to his step. The blood was coming from somewhere on his head, but at least, he somehow noticed, it wasn’t dripping anymore. At least he wouldn’t ruin Agent Brompton’s carpet.

        “Uhh.” He answered, waveringly, sluggishly dropping into said seat. “Long story?”

[strayskin-blog]

□

( x ) □ for your muse to fall on mine and land on top of them

    Out of the two of them, it’s Martin that yelps, even though there’s no way he’s actually in pain unless she had a knife sticking out somewhere on her person. The fall hadn’t been that hard, one of those you-just-couldn’t-get-your-feet-to-work-well-enough-to-catch-you falls, and the ground was dusty and cool. Which was only the first of many reasons why he didn’t struggle to get up.

         “That must’a been your fault.”

[miczariel-deactivated20240917]

It was hard to trust anyone and that showed on her face as she considered his offer. There were a lot of people who wouldn’t have been so kind but this could have been a ruse. She rubbed her hands together as she thought. After a moment, she gave a short nod.

“Alright. For a bit. I heal pretty quickly– most of the time,” she said, slowly, not sure how much to give away. “Did you tell me your name?”

[strayskin-blog]

    The man blinked and frowned lightly down at her, as though the question had surprised him. As standoffish as she’d acted so far, anything resembling being social had seemed like a fairytale.

         “Uh. Martin. It’s Martin. You?”

[commandxrbrand]

“Good. Got to keep up some semblance of order. Talbot doesn’t like things not being the same.” Of course, not like he knew everything on her agents. For all he knew, Martin was just a human. She liked keeping that information close to home.

“Did Churchill have anything new to report?”

[strayskin-blog]

    “Not really. Nothing other than the usual issue of illegals messing up and needing scary visits. It’s like nothing big’s been going on down there.”

[oncedeadliesmith-archive-blog]

     "Do you have any?“ the trickster asked as the other man asked about sausage, "If you do, won’t you be a dear and fetch them for me?”

     Loki began cracking the eggs into the pan. He set the shells aside on the counter for the moment, picking up the spatula to scramble the eggs. He paused and turned to Martin again, “And grab me the milk, yes?”

[strayskin-blog]

    Shoot. Did he have sausage? The man’s brows furrowed themselves with deep thought, probably too deep for so early and blurry a morning. He seemed to give up after a few seconds, saving himself from the beginnings of a headache, and ducked into the fridge to pass Loki the carton of milk he had.

         “No sausage. Sausageless breakfast. This world has ended.”

[oncedeadliesmith-archive-blog]

for hadtogive

[notcaptainbritain-deact]

"You’ve either got a lot of guts, pal, or you’re incredibly stupid."

Baring one’s teeth was a sign of aggression in most species; most species except humans, that is, where the turning up of one’s lips meant that the barer was smiling. The expression on the Skrull’s face looked nothing like a smile, and to him at least they were no better than animals. It was a threat. A sign of hostility, or at the very least defiance…and still it didn’t attack. Unusual for a race that worshiped a god of death.

"So which is it?"

[strayskin-blog]

  The insult as it was only made the smirk grow a shade more brittle, sharper. It was amused, yes, but neither did it brush off the obvious threat this man posed. The Skrull race was in some ways more animalistic than a human would consider itself, but they were smart, too, even more advanced technologically than any of the life on this pathetic little blue-and-green world. The expression suggested that this Skrull knew that-- that whatever threat he was facing now was still an enormous step down from where it stood itself.

  The reptilian humanoid lunged suddenly, choosing to duck low to one side of the weapon and to lash a strong, clawed hand at the man’s thigh.