#soldrboy

[queensupe]

@soldrboy from here.

" I NEED SOMETHING FROM YOU like i need an STD. " she is a barricade by herself, arms stacked across her chest. never has she been so aware of being so ... weak.

( she doesn't miss it, the ability to thrust a table up with a flip of her wrists, the need to stay her hand with even the simplest act of holding a glass. but times like this, when she's a trembling deer caught in the crosshairs of someone else's shot, she feels like she might need it. )

the one-eyed glower she spears him with is sharp enough to lance through his armored flesh & so is the piercing rejoinder she lobs after it.

" there were rumors about that syphilis outbreak after herogasm & i'm really not interested. " batting the downturned flick of her hand as if shooing, she adds. " so you can go right on & fuck off, now. "

[americasaved]

*     THE SUBSTANCE.    ☆ @soldrboy ❛ I'll fucking show you. ❜

❝   Keep  running  your  mouth,  and  I'll  put  you  back  on  ice.   ❞  The  calm  in  which  he  speaks  with  is  curdled  and  brutalistic,  his  lips  daring  to  defiantly  curl  in  a  dare.  As  he  turns  to  face  Ben,  the  patriotism  stitched  to  his  back  sways,  the  eagles  adorned  on  his  shoulder  gleaming  against  fluorescent  surgical  light.  ❝   I  don't  have  the  patience  to  deal  with  your.  .  .  .tantrum.   ❞  He  speaks  like  the  man  is  lesser,  nothing  more  than  chopped  liver.  ❝   But  fine.  ❞  A  lengthy  sigh  like  he  were  hurmoring  a  toddler,  ❝  Enlighten  me.   ❞

[deephex]

@soldrboy liked for a starter <3

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆  ᴡᴀɴᴅᴀ  ᴋɴᴇᴡ  ᴛʜᴇ  ʀᴇᴘᴜᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ  of  the  scarlet  witch  preceded  her.  the  things  she  had  done  were  widely  known  now  as  much  as  she  hated  it  and  there  was  nothing  she  could  do  about  it  at  that  point.  the  sokovian  witch  wanted  to  hide  and  disappear  entirely  from  the  public  eye  but  the  universe  seemed  to  have  other  plans  for  her.  that  was  how  she  had  ended  up  sat  in  a  board  room  in  full  gear,  looking  every  part  the  side  of  herself  she  had  fought  to  bury.

        she  had  been  drumming  her  ring  adorned  fingers  against  the  glass  table  when  the  door  slid  open  and  a  figure  she  had  seen  on  television  a  few  times  walked  into  the  room.  light  green  hues  washed  over  the  man  she  knew  as  soldier  boy,  slipping  on  a  mask  of  pure  indifference  in  an  attempt  to  keep  up  the  persona  people  expected  of  her.

        ❝  before  you  say  anything,  let  me  clear  a  few  things  up.  yes,  i  can  read  minds.  yes,  i  can  make  you  see  things,  yes,  i  can  change  reality  without  even  lifting  a  finger.  no,  i'm  not  going  to  do  any  of  that  to  you.  feel  better  now?  ❞  wanda  didn't  even  bother  to  get  out  of  her  chair,  just  pushing  it  back  slightly  so  she  could  cross  one  long  leg  over  the  other.  her  thick  sokovian  accent  was  as  noticeable  as  ever,  not  bothering  to  dull  it  down  as  she  often  did.

[supesprint]

healing means no shortcuts. there's no instant dose of compound v to accelerate the mending of blood & bone marrow. reggie still felt his carotid pulsing: one of the lingering side effects from marie moreau. a psychosomatic awareness of one's own mortality. looking at the kix crib was an uncomfortable return to memory. even down to the hazmat tape surrounding the building. it brought to mind the start of all the compromises, everything bringing him to the persistent pop in his neck when he turned his head to an open body bag.

the cleanup crew is long gone with the house left to rot, an open sore until the next group of young & desperate supes. it festers with the smell of chlorine now: chemical cleaning solution invades his senses to the point of almost clouding them. but reggie snaps quick photos of what's left behind, all without ever approaching the front door. marie's too far to try saving him from an airborne virus. he hardly even notices the open body bag for all his attention on the building.

surprise halts the slowed minutes to a stop as he keeps a distance from @soldrboy & the boils over his skin. "fuckin' dead man walkin' over here," he mumbles under his breath while snapping another picture.

' i'm in a bad mood. '

reggie considers himself invisible to most in his civilian clothes; black supes only existed in their utility. so he pockets the phone with a shrug, all while maintaining a measured distance. "you look even worse. go to cracker barrel. that place makes every old white fuck feel better."

[supesprint]

the seven is more like a hit list now. america's most wanted & deplorable were dead or missing. or on the run. a-train's overseas mission became an extended leave of absence for injury; corporate language tried to hide the speedster's acts of rebellion against vought. yet here he stood in front of the company's oldest & shiniest product.

he couldn't shake the fear of the inevitable that snuck on his heels after running away. it nips at his nerves like the wind at sonic speeds. it threatens to weigh him down as he rushes his family out of france, nearly sinking him into the waters before hitting cuba. but the land of no extradition promises few american supes & greater safety from the likes of @soldrboy. so reggie knew to wait on the beaches of normandy, to keep vought's eyes far from havana.

' i'll find you immediately. '

it's like staring at a history book page: the tattered, out-dated propaganda painted the other larger than life. he walked so homelander could run. and that thought alone shifted reggie's unease into complete skepticism surrounding the home-grown american myth. "immediately?"

for a second, there's the trademark grin that mirrors the stray cans of turbo rush on the rooftop. but insecurity is long gone & leaves behind an earnest smile making his eyes sparkle behind the visor. "nah, i give it three to five business days with your world war two joints." and he feigns concern as he asks, "what happens if you fall an' can't get up? you got your vought alert ready for a losin' race at mach three?"

[wasdiamond]

“ SUPERHEROES? ” IS IT evident, just how confused the gem is? she shakes her head, “ i know it has been quite some time since i last visited earth, @soldrboy, but i am not aware of 'superheroes.' human beings are always coming up with such spectacular things, aren' they? ” despite the sense of bafflement that seems to linger, a smile comes quick to fuschia features. “ is that what you are? a superhero? ” / sc.

[awkwardcourage]

@soldrboy | “ Are you hiding something? ”

"No." Hughie answers too quickly, which doesn't bode well. It's a half lie. There's plenty he's hiding, but nothing particularly that he's hiding from Soldier Boy; save his thoughts on how horribly wrong 99% of Soldier Boy's opinions are. "I mean... Yeah, just not from... you specifically."

[bcmbsight]

@soldrboy sent: [HESITANT] – Sender hesitates before offering a hand to help receiver up.

He lays on the ground, elbows propping him up a little as his breathing leaves him in quickened pants, half expecting a kick to the gut to send him half way across the room. It's not like it matters, he won't feel it, it won't do anything to him. Nothing does, he just feels -- - numb, but only in the physical. If only he could feel so numb inside his head, if only he could run away from it all in his drug addled stupors permanently before crushing reality has to set in again.

Yet the blow never comes, he pulls up a knee, chin cautiously raising to look up at Soldier Boy towering over him, a hand held out towards him to -- - help him up? There's a moment where he just stares at it, a furrow in his brow, confused, waiting for him to take advantage, to lull him into a false sense of security and pull the floor out from under him. But he doesn't.

Maybe he still will.

Warily, Robbie reaches up a hand of his own, fingers clasping around the brunette's as he pulls himself to his feet, quickly letting go and taking a step back. There's no hiding his confusion, the hurt. He doesn't trust this, he doesn't trust him. "Why'd you help me?" He has to ask him, he has to know. There's got to be some diabolical plan behind it, some twisted ploy.