#comandeor

[strategizst-blog]

    A salute.         "Permission to slap you, sir !"

[istrxtegist]

; ⟨⟪ 𝓚 ⟫⟩ ❞ ▌     an AU based on physicist Louis Slotin ; where Kowalski is experimenting with a radiation core with the team and North Wind goes wrong and he begins a fission reaction, receiving radiation sickness after reacting quickly and preventing his friends from getting killed but placing his own life in danger.

As the days progress his feathers start to fall out and his skin becomes nothing but flaky, and he starts disintegrating from the sickness. The others can't make contact or else they might risk being infected and knowing that he'll lose another friend, the situation devastates Skipper to where he stays by Kowalski's side until the scientist passes away.

[istrxtegist]

; ⟨⟪ 𝓚 ⟫⟩ ❞ ▌    the truth is, you're not okay.    i can see  what others cannot    perceive  ;  fences and wires    built so high  that if broken    or cut old scars become wounds    again, and you have no choice    but to BLEED .

   don't try to be STRONG because    you were never weak. sometimes    you need to break to let others    heal the pain ; to wash all the    blood away.

   you may lash me with barb wire,    and cut me with your fear but i    will never stop trying to cross    the trench of shadows, the dirt    and rubble of your fallen walls.

   and your words penetrate through    like bullets, unspoken words you    don't mean. lay down the machine    gun, please,    step forward and    come clean.

   i'm not asking you to surrender,    i'm only asking    you to trust.    i ask this of you, please TRUST     in me you must.

   you've saved  so  many already.    so let me  save you  ;  let me    heal your   wounds   before I

                start BLEEDING too.

[chaxtique]

; ∩

Send ∩ to my inbox and I’ll generate a snapchat from my muse to yours

[araiignee-blog]

; ♧

♧ : Is fate something your muse believes in ??

     Jim doesn’t believe in fate, nor does he believe in coincidence. Jim does,      in fact, tend to think that most things happen for a reason — but it’s not a     belief in fate that spurs that, it’s a belief in ulterior motives. Things happen     for a reason, and that reason is people. People who want something, people      who want to know something, people & their motivations & desires. The      reason for everything can be found easily by looking at a person, observing      the way they appear, dress, speak, behave, & making a deduction about their      motivations. He doesn’t believe in fate. He believes everything happens for      people’s reasons — and people’s reasons can easily be figured out &      tinkered with. 

[istrxtegist]

# [ ooc: skipper can now eat cheese dibbles obnoxiously at u ]  

[istrxtegist]

⟨⟪ 𝓚 ⟫⟩ ❞ ; "I hope you're certainly aware that one                       of the two penguins you're looking at                       through that camera     is yourself, sir."

[istrxtegist]

; shatter.

shatter. [ meme ] ; stay.

⟨⟪ 𝓚 ⟫⟩ ❞ ; it felt as if a flash grenade had exploded in front of his                    cerulean eyes and blinded   him for approximately five                    seconds before he hit   the   ground with ringing ears,                     disoriented and incapacitated, the fatal strike to the                    back of his neck rendering him disabled.

                              His head throbbed, his ears rung and one shoulder                              had become cold and numb upon dislocation, but                              he lay unyielding, moving to crawl next even if —-                              proving his concern meant he would have to drag                              his battered body across concrete.         But talons                               tenderly graze against the plumage of uneven                               feathers on his head before he’s forced down, the                               weight applied is not enough or intended to cause                              pain, but he is aware that it is a warning. “Skipper,                              let me come with you, please.                                                     You don’t understand.”

"I do, and I don’t need you.You’re staying, Kowalski.”

                  No. Those words were untrue, and he knew Skipper hadn’t                  meant them but they were   enough   to put a hole through                   his chest           rival to any    piercing    bullets that maimed                  someone permanently and  d e a d .      No, because words                  stayed, and words hurt. Those words ; I don’t need you is                  enough to make Kowalski surrender to the depression and                  heartbreak that had so patiently waited their moment.

    “Your babcia was right.       You should’ve never             followed after me.”

                  Kowalski shut his eyes, resisting to remember. Resisting                  any urge to break down in front of his commanding officer                  for the reason that Skipper was right.    His grandmother                  had warned him about            following foreign penguins,                   especially loud and obnoxious ones at that.    They were                  nothing but trouble; only bringing death and sorrow to                   those who followed in their footsteps.

                                                             The Americans they are.

                  But it was never about race, it was never about patriotism,                  or being loyal and serving one’s country.     It was about a                  friendship, a brotherhood             a family. Kowalski dared                  to follow because he felt appreciated,      he felt respected                  and he felt that he had a purpose.

          Perhaps he was stupid. Stupid for leaving his biological family,     stupid for following after an American, stupid for trying to prevent     his commanding officer from            going to another adventurous         endeavour of solitude, but Kowalski knew he wasn’t stupid for     following his heart, even if it now lay shattered beneath him, just     as broken as his body was.

                  He heard movement as the other bird departed again,                  but he was too broken to force his body to stand. He                  managed to move his head,      however, catching the                  silhouette of the other penguin staring back,    before                  leaping over the     red bricked fence     of the zoo and                   disappearing under the shadows below while he lay,                  a blanket of moonlight draping over him as he moved                  his flipper out, reaching for the figure that had already                  moved and gone.

                        His babcia was wrong.                        Skipper   was   wrong.

           This is what he was good at; following.           Following because he chose to follow.            Following; because if he didn’t he would           never forgive himself if Skipper didn’t           come back alive.               "Please, stay.”