★

THE WINTER SOLDIER ★ j a m e s  b a r n e s

[wiintxr]

[ is anyone still here? ]

[wiintxr]

viiuva:

     Despite the smile, the posture, the relaxed way that fingers comb through carefully woven silk threads of red hair, Natasha keeps watching through him. The way he doesn’t resort to words, but doesn’t dismiss her either.

     Confusion. Decisiveness. There’s a mission and she can recognize it.

     She steps closer, feet almost floating through pavement as a dancer would sway on the tips of her toes. The dress flares in the wind, but the holster of her gun doesn’t show. The widow, instead, extends her invite with finely printed text (and surely some sort of hidden code engraved on the paper) toward the man — Natalie Roswick & plus one.

    “ You need one of these or… ”, her brow quirks and voice lowers, perceptible only to his ears. “ I don’t know what you’re trying to do and, god forbid, Rogers wouldn’t never see the end of it if he knew I was here either — with you. But there’s information I need to bid on and I don’t want things to get messy. Do you know who I am? ”

    Red lips quirk upward into a smile, hand falling along with the invite to her side, a sway of her head to adjust back the long threads of hair. Little things that keep everyone unsuspecting. Friends catching up, a woman flirting, nothing that was worth watching closely.

A dancer, of course, gliding on poised feet-- skilled. she’s a huntress, a spider, a b l a c k  w i d o w, a siren, calling out her song before snapping a neck; he senses her looking through him, scanning the area.                   Yet she keeps her eyes on h i m. She knows what she’s doing. Glancing down at the card that’s been offered, extended, he doesn’t know if he should trust her, knows he shouldn’t.  But he does. He can mold and twist this to get his way.        “ Rogers? “  Steve Rogers? He’s read about him in a museum. Brows knit momentarily before relaxing like waves, crashing, then steady  — u n p r e d i c t a b l e.         He’d mention how he doesn’t know who she is, but that would be giving her an advantage, wouldn’t it?         The fox is more agile than the w o l f when it needs to be. It’s almost mechanical, his speech, wiped of all previous memories once again, a clean slate, a slab of clay to be shaped and molded by toxic hands, poison leaking in. There’s a lack of life in his eyes, a puppet being controlled, trying to break free — he looks back at her hand, seeing the outline of a holster, looking back into her eyes. 

[viiuva]

@wiintxr​ a starter !!

      Steps slow to a stop — she doesn’t know why he’s here.

      Gun at the hip, one single movement away from picking it under the opening at her flowing black dress — an opening that reaches far too high for decency, but helps for practicality. It’s not a thread (he’s not a threat), but she doesn’t know why. Turning carefully to face him, features gentle and with a flash of feigned surprise to her eyes, Natasha finally acknowledges his presence.

       ❝ Forecast says snow might fall tonight. I haven’t seen snow in Moscow in too long…  ❞, there’s a smile on her lips, although careful and calculated. She speaks in English — part of her cover as a foreign associative to some large arms company, interested in the auction. It’s not perfect, but it works. Why?        ❝ I didn’t imagine you’d be interested in this sort of things: balls and auctions. Something you’ll be bidding on?  ❞ Why are you really here? 

[wiintxr]

Москва—?          W o l f stalking the v i x e n; larger footsteps, but quicker when need be—; why is she speaking of Moscow? What does she know? Speaking so nonchalantly like she k n o w s. Were they on a previous mission together? He listens to her, the English rolling off of her tongue like blood into water - red camouflaged in plain sight. Fitting.                                                                            Why would she mention him not being                                                                          interested in this sort of t—                                                               миссия                                                               миссия                                                               миссия                                                    м     и    с    с    и    я       “ ‘Browsing. “                                                It’s perfectly matched in English; smooth, n a t i v e—;                                 there’s something specific he’s meant to grab. His eyes are dull, yet focused, scanning around before meeting the woman’s once more.

[wiintxr]

hc + memory loss

[ п о т е р я   п а м я т и ];;trauma, electro-charged zips and wisps,dashing around like fireflies and bouncingo                                                                                           F               fthe walls. he doesn’t remember, he’s a program?                    a program? he doesn’t remember. doesn’t rememberthe slicing and gnawing and ripping ofhis f l e s h, the taste of metal, buzzing of a tablesaw— s c r e a m s;;it’s pulled from his head.it’s forgotten.

[derangcdarchive-blog]

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character.

[wiintxr]

[ is anyone here still active? ]

[redroomxcademy]

тренироваться с болью; 🔫🔪💊💉💰🇷🇺

[wiintxr]

drippingredledgers:

                             a gust of winter filters in her presence. a brisk blizzard that descends in the night’s sky, a blanket of suffocation which sneaks up on their victim —— too distracted by the star’s above, providing the perfect time to drain the air from your prey’s throat. footsteps behind powder to her feet, a hushed silence yet it’s the frost which breathes from his breath that alerts her to his stand. there’s no flinching, no flickering, only frigidness —— frozen by the air. a russian tongue laces the syllables, a familiar sensation which sparks a muted past.

                                                                         ❛ зависит от ответа вы ищете. ❜

                               lying upon his stomach in the frozen precipitation, the incarnation of 0° celcius and below keeps a carnivores’ f o c u s e d glare upon their prey, their target--practice to him. it intrigues him, observing the victim casting a gaze upon the lights above; do these men even t h i n k of the wolves which run these woods? he doesn't ponder such questions, dismissing them nearly as quickly as he can KILL, a single shot between the eyes.                                he simply huffs at the reply, an exhale through his nose, quick{!!}.

[wiintxr]

drippingredledgers----;

SHARP orbs flick towards his responsibility, his example of precision----acting and using these years of training, passing them down to the  next. He has not had a target in d a y s.      ‘’ Вы можете обвинить меня? ‘’  He speaks in a h u s h e d whisper,  still searching for the man.

[marvelwintersoldier]

[venividivicii-blog]

House of Cards sentence starters

Change pronouns / descriptors as necessary!

"I have no patience for useless things."

"We’re in the same boat now. Take care not to tip it over. I can only save one of us from drowning."

"We’re in a very gray area. Ethically. Legally. Which I’m okay with."

"What a martyr craves more than anything is a sword to fall on."

"Nobody can hear you. Nobody cares about you. Nothing will come of this."

"I know all about hate. It starts in your gut, deep down here, where it stirs and churns. And then it rises."

"You haven’t earned the right to be treated as an adult."

"So you think when a woman asks to be treated with respect, that’s arrogance?"

"You don’t want to work anywhere you’re not willing to get fired from."

"Treading water is the same as drowning, for people like you and me."

"Love of family: most politicians are permanently chained to that slogan, family values. But when you cozy up to hookers and I find out, I will make that hypocrisy hurt."

"He believes that if a fridge falls off a minivan, you better swerve out of its way. I believe it’s the fridge’s job to swerve out of mine."

"Just making an observation."

"Are you letting pride cloud your judgment?"

"I’m the only person who believes in you, but maybe that’s one too many."

"Maybe they were right. Maybe you are worthless."

"I promise you’ll never be bored."

"He was the only one who understood me. He didn’t put me on some pedestal."

"The most you’ll ever make of yourself is blowing men like me."

"I can smell the cock on your breath from here."

"He’d never go for you. You’re too intimidating."

"I’ve been doing this a long time. I know when I’ve scraped all the shit off the shoe."

"Do you get off on this or something?"

"There’s no better way to overpower a trickle of doubt than with a flood of naked truth."

[ironarchived]

Read More

[wiintxr]

                    ❛ ———scan complete: hostiles, one. armed: yes.  ❜        the bat jumps out of the way, rolling into nearby cover. removing the disruptor    from his belt, white lenses focus on their target. the switch is turned on, leaving    the firearm jammed. for now. hook lodges into the nearby ledge, pulling the cloaked    vigilante into the soldier with a hard KICK to the chest.                         ❛ admirable. but i’ve dealt with marksmen before. ❜

    veiled orbs follow the shadow, biotech prosthetic     d         --ropping     the weapon for now, pulling two from his belt, matching,     one in each hand like TARGETS before snapping their     windpipes like twigs; just as he was PROGRAMMED to do.                                                                        cut off one head and two more will take it’s place.     ----an advanced appendage     reaches for ankle     as the creature of the night     glides towards him;

[explodinghye-deactivated2018050]

Visit Original Link

[wiintxr]

[wiintxr]

                                 ——

  ʜᴇ's ᴀ ɢ ʜ ᴏ s ᴛ

ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ʀᴘ ʙʟᴏɢ sᴇᴠᴇɴ + ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴏғ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ sᴄʀɪᴘᴛ, ʟɪᴛ, ᴘᴀʀᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟʟᴀ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏs ᴍᴜɴ ɪs ᴀ ᴄʀᴜᴍʙᴄᴀᴋᴇ

{ декс }                                      { сообщение }                                      { архив } 

[detectivecowl]

     ❛ ————  i shall become a bat. ❜

[one-jaide]

Monsters exist in margins. They are thus avatars of chance, impurity, heterodoxy; abomination, mutation, metamorphosis; prodigy, mystery, marvel. Monsters are indicators of epistemic shifts.

Ten Theses on Monsters and Monstrosity (VII), Allen Weiss (via elucipher)

[detectivecowl]

          Metal arm, specialized weapons, he seems familiar. No           time to negotiate. ” —- I suggest you put the gun down,            before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

[wiintxr]

       Orders were given by those who kept the machine and          its programming up to date, placing various scripts and          codes into this system of partial organics. There is no          verbal reply, yet a click of a firearm breaches the air          with a man made s c r e a m, neck of a material shaped          by men, thinking of themselves as gods, cracking.