𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑, @femfallax.
the winter soldier lives, not only for revenge against hydra. it lives in his veins, unfortunately, this moniker carved through years and years of brainwashed artistry. if he has to be honest, however, there was inevitable ingenuity stripped among the layers of hydra, the fucking zola scientist proved it over and over again through his works with the winter soldier. he’s a product of insanity, turned into a murderer with ease. he was a tool, manmade machine with pilfered memories — it was a cold winter, and he recalls the procedures. how could one make a bionic arm a long time ago? how could one dissect the conscious from subconscious a long time ago? brandishing the knowledge of psychological conundrums that are still questioned by the current day experts. he’s an aftermath, and he slowly regains himself… even when it takes years and years to come.
his reveries for the night are seared with the wisp of bullet sound, swishing through the wind. he peeks through the scope of his m4a1, locating the targets with relative ease as he catches her in his sight. ah, well. she seems to get into a lot of troubles, reminding him of himself. he can just end all of them with the bullets, but where’s the fun in that. he shifts his position, fitting his mask on his face even when it’s unnecessary from this far. points his aim at the ones endangering the targets she seems to be covering for, and shoots the bullets at them. neck-through, believing that the chests are covered by bulletproof vests. it’s least expected by them, the deaths of their comrades. he doesn’t know if it means there will be more to come, since these wolves are not hydra. he doesn’t know them like the back of his hand, but he knows the girl does know them well enough, so it’s time to get his hands dirty.
he does a little parkour, nimble feet bringing himself towards the main point of the fight is. on the rooftop, he can tell that they keep pouring towards her, and after a few previous encounters, he can tell that she’s somewhat wanted by them, dead or alive. just like the winter soldier for the residue of hydra. and maybe, that’s why he’s aiding her. there’s a sense of camaraderie formed between them, even when it’s nonverbal. unsaid. and when he reaches the rooftop with his colt already stored at his back, he chooses to make his entrance dramatic by throwing a knife at one of them, hitting them straight on the temple. he makes a run, bullets quickly raining against him, and he sighs inwardly knowing that using his arm to shield himself from the bullets means he needs a new hoodie. it’s a cheap one anyway.
he gives the man closest to his new station a good kick in the jugular, then. his hands find his heckler dual guns immediately, crossing his arms to make another dramatic pair of shots, killing two at once. “seems like you always get your ass in trouble, girl,” he comments, chuckling as he levels his gaze to gauge the number of enemies left.
