terrorsmasterpiece.

Independent Marvel RP. Sasha Hammer, from The Invincible Iron Man. Written by Marissa.

[terrorsmasterpiece]

                              I’ll show you what TERROR is.

                                     independent sasha hammer,                                           leader of the ten rings.                                                            au 616 & MCU timeline.

[389]

Yonghee Greg Pths

[volaba-deactivated20160102]

                                                                         ella volaba;                                                          y cuando regresaba a la tierra,                                                               tenía el cielo en sus ojos.

                                                               independent stratogale                                                                   from the incredibles.

[writtenby-marissa-blog]

send me a  ✉, and I’ll message you on tumblr messaging with an ic text.

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

thefutureofwarfare:

    There’s a mother and father in the photograph. Two beautiful children. The boy has a dog tucked under his arm. They look so happy and normal, grinning out at the two criminals curled on their furniture. Zeke wants to hate them–probably would have about a year ago–but now he can’t find the energy.     “No,” He can’t, especially now that it is all over. When they first started this, he never imagined what their lives would be like after they got rid of Tony Stark. What came after revenge? Shifting, he throws out his hand towards the photograph.     “–Can you image what it would’ve been like if we lived like that?”

     Sasha lets her focus drag over to the portrait. Each face is studied carefully, but her neutral expression hides her thoughts beneath. It’d be fun to wait for them to come home. She’d strangle the mother like she wished she did her own. She’d make the children and father watch. Zeke could take care of the father afterward. They could crush their demons this way, over and over again, a new house, a new pretty family.

     She turns her face and buries it against his chest. Zeke’s changed, and she doesn’t want to hear it if he decides that he doesn’t want to. Sasha didn’t want to be shot down like that.

     “No. I can’t.”

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@thefutureofwarfare (x)

     Sasha lays beside him, her back pressed up against his chest. It feels strange without there being any need to plan consistently. The chaos of it all feels like it’s been swept away, and now the best they could get was invading the homes of people they weren’t.

     She wraps her leg around his as she shifts, looking up at Zeke. Her fingers idly trace his jaw.

     “Our parents never hid what they were to us. It was acceptable. --And I've always been happy with what I am. I wouldn’t have you if I hadn’t come down this path, right? Can you think of your life without me?”

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

@thefutureofwarfare (x)

she doesn’t know why she followed him here. sasha could have waited-- she didn’t have to enter the cemetery, did she? yet she can’t keep her curiosity at bay. she wants to get him. she wants to know everything about ezekiel stane.

and this was it. tears and a tombstone. she’s never seen him so vulnerable, but she isn’t about to pluck at those nerves. his words don’t surprise her-- she didn’t expect any- one else to know.

sasha leans in to wrap her hand around his elbow. she tugs at it, pulling him somewhat away from the stone and closer to herself.

     “zeke. i’m not going to say anything.”

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@execucio

     “Every time I see you, you look more and more like shit. The years are really catching up to you, Jac.”

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

thefutureofwarfare:

    The curved edge of the chair snaps. What if she’s lying. what if it’s her. justine’s dead. mandarin’s dead – it’s just Sasha. And the pain– if there’s still pain then it has to be someone, digging in his brain to stop the healing, to steal his thoughts, to control him. he cant think he cant –       “Shut up!” The chair flies from his hand to the opposite wall, and he jerks his shoulder towards her. The lines zig-zag up with his anxiety, lighting his skull with rivers of energy. Her arms ( where he poked and prodded to give her the greatest gift she’s ever received ) are the next target for his grip. The quick flip in his demeanor was not unusual for their hired hands– but it was never once directed towards Sasha.       “While you were worried about your goddamn yogurt, I was losing my fucking mind! If you love me so much, where– “ his fingers slack as the pain returns, his temper aggravating the ache. “–where were you? You didn’t help me out of there, Sasha. Y–You didn’t help me save this stupid planet. Fucking Tony Stark did!”

     A flinch shocks through Sasha’s body as the chair smashes into the wall. Her shoulders raise and stiffen. Zeke’s hold on her has her reeling. She should be fighting back. She should be fighting back. His words just drag her into a moment of silence, though. The fact that Tony and Zeke had worked together kills her.

     She can’t lose him now, though. Even if she was falling out of this relationship herself.

     “Listen to me, Ezekiel Stane. Do you remember what you used to say? Huh? I’m your masterpiece. I’m yours. Not theirs. Yours. I would never have done something so harmful to you. I wouldn’t have hurt you like that. I didn’t know. I thought-- I thought you were being an ass. I thought you weren’t picking up the phone on purpose. I didn’t know something had gone wrong, and if I had, I would have done something about it.”

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

came on here just to be like

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

thefutureofwarfare:

  It doesn’t make sense. After everything they’d done together, how could they be duped? How long was Mandarin in his head? Was it the moment he met Sasha, back in those caves? She approaches, he retreats, fingers flying back to his head to force out the pain with pressure. “He put bombs in us, Sasha. In all of us– In me. While you--”

  Maybe that’s what this is. He heard the news reports over the com. She got to play hero as Detroit Steel while Zeke ripped open his chest and pulled an explosive device from his ribs. It feels something like betrayal, to think she was on top without him. That maybe she used him to get there.Like father like daughter.    The energy dissipates when his palm hits the back of the chair. He pays just enough mind to keep from snapping the spine of it, free fingers cradling his forehead. How long had Mandarin been peeking in there?          “–What would you have done if he had killed me?”

     Sasha presses her own fingers on her temples. Fuchsia fizzes through her skin, a reaction the the stress he’s putting her through. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I never wanted you in a situation like that, I never meant for any of this to happen! I never knew what their plans were, Zeke. Please, please believe me.”

     Hysterics are set in full gear. She’s weak in her knees, yet she tries to hold herself up. Never had she been characterized as the vulnerable type-- she’d always been good at leaving people when they stopped being useful to her. Zeke is a different case, though. As much as Sasha tries to pull herself away, there’s a certain sense of responsibility she has with what’s happened to him. She needs him for the tech under her skin, too. Sasha’s never been one to stay when others became accusatory-- violent-- yet she can’t even manage to leave Zeke without always coming back.

     “I don’t-- know-- I don’t know! I’m not strong enough without you, Zeke! Without you I can’t-- I could never have-- I wouldn’t be here without you. Zeke, they weren’t telling me anything, I wouldn’t have known with any time to do anything, I didn’t know what was going on. Please, Zeke, I love you so much, I love you so much and I just-- I miss you-- I don’t know what to do without you--”

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thefutureofwarfare:

    The energy coils around his neck, pulsating with the clench of his fist. The conversation sounds familiar, but his mind is noisy. Can’t remember. The surgery should’ve fixed it. Stark was supposed to fix him. Sasha’s father was dead.  But his head–     He breathes, the sound shuddering when he takes it in, a remnant of automation. maybe it’s damage. incurable, leftover damage. maybe he will never get rid it. “–I told you. I told you he was in my head–”

     “But I didn’t know what was happening, Zeke. I thought you were okay. I thought-- I thought everything was fine, I thought you weren’t answering my calls because you were being a dick-- I thought you were working. I didn’t think my parents were fucking us over like that, Zeke.”

     Sasha wants to keep moving away. She wants to leave before this gets worse, but where will that get them? Leaving him while he’s like this doesn’t help. Sasha knows she can’t do that. Hesitant steps are taken to near Zeke. Her hands reach out ahead of her to try to find a way to calm him down.

     “Zeke, I need you to listen to me. Please, just listen to me.”

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thefutureofwarfare:

    It surprises him how little the money matters.  Before, he would’ve grimaced at the loss; no money, no parts, no engineering, no modifications, no death-of-Stark.  It will make maintenance take longer, perhaps. What a shame. He presses his fingers to his head, spread from temple to temple. It doesn’t release the growing ache.                                                                                           –The disorienting pulses of pain                                                                                           halt his thoughts, his speech, his                                                                                           whole fucking mind. It should be                                                                                           gone. Why the hell isn’t it gone?–     He stands abruptly, the chair clamoring back in the silence. Zeke doesn’t approach her. Not yet. A vibrant stripe of energy spikes up his shoulders, zigzagging into his hairline. The anger is misplaced – It’s the pain. just the pain. just the fear –     “…Did you know?” He thinks he’s asked before. maybe. ah, god, he must’ve. “Did you– Did you know what he was… What he was going to do to me? –To us?”

     Sasha begins to step back. She can tell this isn’t a good time-- it’s never a good time-- and it bothers her that she just got here and it’s happening again. Maybe she should have stayed out longer. That would’ve been better than dealing with this-- again.

     “No. No, I didn’t.” She runs a hand through her hair. “We’ve been through this, Ezekiel. We’ve-- been-- through this. And I can’t believe that you think I’d do something like that to you.”

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thefutureofwarfare:

         He knows what he’s supposed to say. There’s a sense of a routine here. A year ago, he would’ve grinned and pulled her into his lap, made some quip about tiring him out, but now… That requires more effort and caring than he can muster. He doesn’t want to joke and laugh. Doesn’t feellike it.

         “ –Where did you go? “

     “--Out. Doing a little trade.” She pulled out rubber banded bills, setting a few wads down on the table. That was the way she spent part of her time. The other part was spent with other villains-to-be, needing someone with the qualifications to get them what they needed and give them that final push to complete their plans. As much as she hated to admit it-- and she never would-- none of them compared to Zeke. “Money’s not quite what it used to be, but it’s plenty regardless.”

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thefutureofwarfare:

    Zeke does not look up from his notebook, but at her voice, he fingers the cover over to hide the design. It’s the tenth time he’s sketched out her father’s plans, mind blissfully blank. She’s an intrusion, and it forces him to return to the quiet room.          “ - Can’t sleep. “

     “Ah.”

     Sasha’s disheartened by the way he clams up at her. She realizes that Zeke has sincerely loved her more than she’ll ever love him, yet she feels a sense of betrayal when he doesn’t seem so open to her company anymore.

     "Can I do anything to help?”

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thefutureofwarfare

     There’s a reason she’s been out so late tonight. Being with Zeke is still okay-- somewhat. Yet his own condition leaves her at a loss from time to time. She doesn’t know how to deal with it. Saying that she goes out to medium selling weapons isn’t a lie-- but she does find it in herself to go elsewhere as well.

     She’s not surprised when she finds him up.

     “Hey, Baby. You're up late.”

[terrorsmasterpiece-archive2]

thefutureofwarfare:

Her vitals are fine. No worries there. The entire operation was a success, and now that it’s just them in the room, his joy threatens to burst out of him. It will take a few weeks of healing and rest, but when the time comes… The excitement builds, a smile bright and wide on his mouth in spite of her apparent struggle. “Maybe you should lie back down?” he suggests, enthusiasm not the proper tone for a doctor.

Sasha wants to cling to his arm, to grip with manicured nails and leave dents in his own skin, yet these things aren’t possible right now. Not after this surgery. She’s going to have to wait before she can do that. The pain fills her up, and she decides to listen, laying back down. “You better take good care of me, Ezekiel Stane. I’ll personally fuck you up after if you don’t.”