#*plotted

[flourpicker-blog]

Sinking In || Vampire AU || Owain and Inigo

      {❁}---- Inigo smiled somberly, as he finally had to wave goodbye to his dear childhood friend, Owain. The good things couldn't last forever, can't they now? Especially when he was a vampire. "If I ever see you again, I'll be sure to tell you. Hehe, I'll have a special signal... Ah, I have a good idea, I'll just give you this scarf!" Inigo quickly took a thin, yellow scarf out of his pocket, and handed it to his friend. "This will tell me who you are if I ever see you again-- you better wear it everyday, man!" A chuckle came from the other, indicating that he'll do so. Inigo beamed at this, and waved once more as he trotted off. 

                It felt unsettling, really. The sun glared into his eyes, as he stared out of the car's window. Moving back to that small town again, huh? Ylisse, was it? It was certainly different from Plegia-- that place is chock full of vampires, however. It seemed like he'll have to start concealing his true identity better. He did pretty well when he was a child, considering that he has a resistance to the sun (that was since his mother was merely only a human, however). He still had it, of course, but the sun bothered him more than it would to other normal people.

               His father stopped the car in front of a grand mansion, telling Inigo to get out and haul his stuff in. His mother quietly followed his dad into the house, rendering him alone to plop his stuff inside. Maybe he'll try to find that boy again. Owain or something, right? Well, vampires usually had an acute memory, anyways. So it wasn't strange he actually remembered. Inigo continued to ponder on the likes of that boy, as he distractedly allowed the boxes that held his belongings drop on the floor. He cringed at the noise it made, hoping that he didn't have anything too fragile in those boxes. Whatever.

                "I'm going out! I'll be back later to settle in. I need to find someone." The white-haired male exclaimed, as he absentmindedly forced the door open once more. He didn't bother to wait for a response, and left the confines of the house. Immediately, he was hit with the autumn breeze, and the sound of raking leaves in a nearby house. He craned his neck to look at his neighbor-- it was a boy donning ebony hair, looking slightly irritated as he reluctantly raked the leaves gathered on the ground. A familiar color caught his eye, however. It was a yellow scarf-- his eyes widened. Could it be him? Was it simply a coincidence?

               "Owain?" He inquired, deciding to test out his hypothesis. "Is that you? Gosh, I haven't seen you in years..."

[romanoffx-blog]

little talks || iknewhxm

        The room is dark and still, with only the moon's light shining through the window to illuminate the space, and only the faint sound of soft breathing to break the silence. Their weapons have long since been set aside, and clothing is scattered across the floor. It's their special place -- the only place they can go for themselves, without fear of being watched or followed or caught.

        Natalia turns to kiss the Soldier's bared shoulder, her arm slipping around his waist as she scoots closer to him. It's been a long day of training, and she breathes out a soft, exhausted sigh, nestling comfortably against his side, scarlet locks spread out over the contrastingly white sheets.

        "Will you stay tonight?" Her voice is gentle and low, the question curious. Usually by now he's already slipped out into the night, leaving her with a solemn kiss and a promise to see her soon. Opening her eyes, Natalia turns her head upward to look at him with a sleepy gaze.

        She wants him to stay, and perhaps that's clear simply in the way she's asked the question, or the gleam in her big green eyes as she stares longingly towards him. Of course she understands when he needs to leave -- there's so much at stake for both of them, they can't afford to take any risks. But Natalia won't deny that she wants him to stay, if only for tonight. 

[romanoffx-blog]

teacher || xndline

                    "Еще раз."

        They'd been sparring for a good hour and a half -- longer than the other girls from the Red Room had been willing to stay. Natalia wasn't one to give up quite as easily, however. He may've beaten her every single time, but it had always been close, and she was determined to win at least once.

        Back on her feet, Natalia faced her teacher, the Winter Soldier. A few stray locks of red hair had fallen into her face, clinging to the beads of sweat on her skin, and she pushed them aside. Drawing in deep breaths, she stepped across from him, stretching out her arms before taking position.

                    "I want to run it again."

        She purposely spoke in English, practicing her accent. There was still a distinctly Soviet lilt to it, although it had gotten notably better since he began to teach her -- as did her combat skills.

                    " -- Unless I've wiped you out, Soldier."

        There was a challenging glint in her big green eyes, and a little smirk pulled her lips upward. He'd only been her teacher for a couple of weeks, but she wasn't afraid of teasing him. 

[romanoffx-blog]

the walls keep tumbling down || romanoffx, vibranxum, wiintxr

        They're on a mission.

        It's one of the first Natalia has been on since her training was completed -- not that anyone would be able to tell, with the ease with which she conducts herself, completely undetected by any of the party-goers. She has her target in sight, she's ready to get this over with so that she and her partner can call it a night and go home.

        The only problem -- one American who has been watching her all night.

        Natalia is a spy -- so she knows when she's being hunted, especially when it's being done this poorly. It's almost a goddamn insult, but she knows she has to take care of this, and quickly. So she looks to James, telling him without any words exactly what she plans to do, before leaving the party out a back door.

        "You know," she says when she's certain the American is there -- the door hadn't closed behind her, meaning someone had stopped it and joined her in the alleyway. It's a subtle sign, but it's enough for her to know. Her hair is up, held together by a dagger cleverly disguised as a hairpin, but now she reaches upward and pulls the pin away, letting her scarlet locks tumble over her shoulders. 

        "If you're going to sneak up on a spy, you could at least put a little effort into it." 

[romanoffx-blog]

coming home || wiintxr

                 It's late when Natasha makes it back to her little         apartment. After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything         that had happened in DC, she made her escape from         the city and got an apartment in a small town in Virginia         It wasn't the first time she'd needed to create a new         cover for herself -- hell, she had dozens of them. As          she climbs up the stairs to her apartment, she carries          with her an entirely new set of documents -- a birth         certificate giving her a new name, a new passport,          everything she needed for a new life.

                She has a job and an apartment waiting for her in         London, and it's finally beginning to seem like she'll be         able to put this whole thing behind her -- but as she         reaches her door, Natasha notices it's unlocked, and         immediately she shifts into defense mode, opening it         slowly and quietly to peer inside.

                The apartment is unlit, but she can see it         -- a silhouette in a corner of the living room, dark         and looming, and she reaches for a dagger she         keeps in the inside pocket of her jacket. 

                “ I know you're back there. ” 

[romanoffx-blog]

off the grid || redwinterfall

        It took a bit of time, but Natasha was able to relocate after D.C. She created a new cover, a new life, in the suburbs of the city -- somewhere she could be close if she was needed, but far enough away that no one would suspect her.

        She hoped, anyway.

        She'd gotten a job at a ballet studio just outside of town. It wasn't much, but it was something she excelled at and enjoyed, and it was a good way to pass the time. Classes had ended for the day and she was alone in the large dance studio, the sound of Swan Lake filling the empty room as she danced along with the music.

        It'd been so long since she'd been able to dance like this, and she'd forgotten how freeing it was -- how she could put herself into every graceful movement, forget her troubles for a little while. She spun in front of the mirror, lost in the music, until a figure across the room made her jolt and nearly stumble to a stop.

        For a moment, as she stared at the figure behind her in the mirror, she wondered if she was imagining things. But she turned around and, sure enough, there he was, clear as day -- standing there in the doorway, and she had no idea how long he'd been there watching her.

        Instinctively, she took a defensive stance, her brow furrowing as she eyed him suspiciously. So much for getting off the grid.

        "What are you doing here?"

[romanoffx-blog]

dancing shoes || watchedmyguiltblossom

       The sky was stained an array of colors in the twilight as it hung over D.C., and Natasha sat cross-legged on the carpet of her living room in her apartment, scrolling through a playlist of music on her iPod. When Steve told her he had no idea how to dance, she made the offer to teach him.

        They'd been spending more time together as of late, and Natasha might even venture so far as to call him her friend -- so when she'd offered, she meant it. She'd spent the past hour or so moving all of the furniture of the living room over to one wall to give them the space to move around, and a couple of water bottles were set out on the floor for them. 

        As she was making her selection, she heard a light rapping at the door and smiled gently to herself. "Door's unlocked," she called before the room could fill with the sound of La Vie En Rose. "Come on in." Getting to her feet, she stepped into the parlor and leaned against the wall to wait for him.