#i-do-not-act

[the13thsuperior-blog]

Watchful Visitations // Uatu and Zemo

i-do-not-act:

The towering Watcher did not react any further. Instead he merely continued to stare. He felt tension mounting in the air. His viewing subject was on edge. After so many millennia, Uatu had grown used to this reaction from beings all across the universe.

Zemo had plenty that still needed to be accomplished. He would not take his eyes off the creature in the room, however, that would be a mistake he would not make. It’s silence grated on Zemo more and more with each passing minute. The thing needed to speak or leave, and if it would not make the choice on its own, Zemo would have to provide the incentive. 

On his desk lay a pistol, always loaded and ready to be fired. After a few more minutes of the creature’s unceasing silence Zemo picked up the gun without looking at it and aimed just to the right of the creature’s head. He pulled the trigger once and allowed the shot to ring out loud and clear against the suffocating silence. Then he aimed the gun at the creature, and stared, waiting for the creature’s next action. 

[morphinemechanic-blog]

It was another late night at Horace's Auto Shop. Someone was watching Aeron from the shadows as she worked on restoring her muscle car. As to how the large figure had fit into the garage into the first place was just as mysterious as the being itself. It was almost entirely cloaked in shadow, watching her as she practiced her craft. Moonlight reflected off its eyes as well as the long blue cape draped over one arm. Those eyes were fixated on Aeron, unmoving.

Aeron’s attention was tirelessly placed on the greased up engine before her, nothing but the steady rhythm of a socket wrench keeping her company. Another Sunday, another day to work on her baby. Give it another month and Aeron was confident that she’d be street ready. This beamed pride in her, to be able to construct by hand what her own powers could give to her instantly. Only proving to herself that she was just as skilled, mutant or not. Letting go of the tool that continued to tighten away,  she strode to the tool box to look for a bolt. 

The hairs on the nape of her neck began to rise, a sudden feeling that she was no longer alone began to fill in the spaces of the empty garage. Knowing all too well what it could mean if it wasn’t a friend  dropping by unannounced. Dropping the bolt back into the pile, Aeron’s hand reached for her multi-tool that was fasten to the back of her belt in it’s “tube” mode as she spun around looking for whatever had come across her path. 

“Far too late in the day to be getting the drop on me.” Aeron extended the multi-tool to its common form: the bo-staff. “Come out where I can see you.” She called out into the emptiness. “Show me where you are or I’ll have no choice but to make you show yourself.”

@i-do-not-act

[the13thsuperior-blog]

Helmut Zemo thought that he was alone. Deep down in the recesses of his Hydra base of operations, where no one could disturb him. He was wrong, however. Someone else was there. Someone watching. The figure stood tall in the corner of the dark room, staring intently at Zemo. Its eyes were obscured in shadow under a prominent brow, but he could tell that they were fixated on his every move and action. It was completely still and silent, statue-like in its composure, as it watched.

Zemo had been spending countless hours alone in his study. His plotting and planning took work, hours upon hours of constant research, scheming. This was a chess game and he would not allow himself to be on the wrong end of the final checkmate. All things must be perfect, all things must be inline with his plan and go exactly to plan. Nothing could-

He could sense eyes on him from somewhere, a corner in the room perhaps. It was now that he regretted not buying brighter lamps, or at least more of them. Confident and fearless as it made him appear, he did not like being caught unawares. He had not gotten to this point by being sloppy. 

“I do not know who you are, or how you got in here without my noticing,” Zemo began in a calm but frigid tone. Whoever allowed this little slip up within the guard ranks would be shot promptly. In fact, Perhaps the whole of them should be dealt with. For someone to get this far in without being taken care of meant that many eyes had failed. “But I assure you, lingering in the shadows still would not be the wisest of choices. Show yourself and mercy will be allotted. Continue to hide and I cannot guarantee such a promise.”

[carolthemarvelous]

The Watcher || Carol and Uatu

i-do-not-act:

The cosmic sentinel could sense the discomfort and unhappiness coming off of Captain Marvel in waves. It was evident that his presence put her at unease. This was often the case with those not as advanced or as long-lived as his own species.

Uatu cocked his head slightly. “I am the Watcher. I must watch,” he stated calmly, as if this was the most obvious thing in the universe. His voice filled the room, although he spoke in a quiet tone.

Carol matched the tilt of his head, posture straightening fully back to normal. "'The Watcher.' That a name, or a job title? And why watch me, in particular? There are plenty of other people in this world who would be more than happy to give you an eyeful. Is there some specific reason you chose me to stare at?"

Now she was curious more than anything. It really did seem like the fellow in front of her had no intention of doing anything other than Watch her. And, hopefully, answer some of the many questions that were popping up as to why.