Open RP Post

[rzhavyy]

 

Leave a starter post or ask for one, give me gifs and pretty pictures, song lyrics, a ship and a setting, or any mix you like.

Let's make magic happen. NSFW is cool, just label the subject line pls.

If you wanna know what I'm into, my preference are here.
I'm into just about anything with discussion, though.

Comments

text.

[stevegrogers]

Are you still sitting outside?
This place is safe, Buck.

[rzhavyy]

I'm making sure.
I'll be in soon.

[He feels more comfortable out here, but that's on the list of things he doesn't know how to say to Steve.]

[stevegrogers]

Do you want me to come check with you?

[ While he understood the unease, he still wanted Bucky to feel less guarded and on edge. They were both safe for the first time in a long time. ]

Picture Prompt

[scepterschild]

[rzhavyy]

[Things change. People change. Bucky's still trying to figure out what that means, who he is now that they've pulled the words out of his head, that the doctors have given their best assurances that no one can control him again. It's good enough to coax him out of the ice, even if there's still that part of him that wonders.

He shoves it down, tries to move on as what's left of the Avengers try to stay one step ahead of the rest of the world. That, at least, is something he knows how to do. Something he's good at.

But he finds that Wanda can be- distracting. He remembers her from darker days, or thinks that he does, anyway. She hasn't brought it up, so he doesn't either. It's the problem with the holes in his memory. Sometimes it's hard to know what's real and what are ghosts, figments of a mind putting broken pieces together the wrong way. But he remembers a young woman with power in her fingertips locked in a cage. Escorting her through the snow, both her protector and the leash to make sure she didn't wander too far as Hydra took her out to test what she could really do, red energy that flowed like blood.

Sometimes he has other thoughts about her. Her fingers on his cheek, her hair in his fingers. But she's an attractive woman and those thoughts? Probably one of the more normal things about him.

It's late at night, and Bucky woken from a couple hours sleep by another nightmare, which is his normal by this point. So he goes to the kitchen, pulling a mug down for coffee. It's a small, easy routine, but that's what he has. She walks in the room and he tracks her without raising his head, lets the silence linger and takes in the sound of the air as she moves.]

[scepterschild]

[Wanda remembers very little of her time in captivity. They had done everything they could to stop the use of her powers. The prison held her on her own floor; positioned away from as many people as possible. She was then drugged, collared and strapped down. Imagines from that time flash through her head now, needles and doctors, it isn't so different from her time with Hydra. Except that her friends are the ones who had put her there.

Everything changes... It isn't safe in New York. She's free from prison but at what cost? She's lost her home again and watched as the small family she built crumbled.

It's hard to know what to do next.

More often than not, Wanda finds herself awake at night. This is something that hasn't changed. It's never quiet enough to sleep; her memories taunt the edge of her mind, waiting to remind her of every death that weighs on her shoulders.

Tonight is no different.

At first, she confines herself to her room but that doesn't last long. Restlessness pulses through her limbs and she begins to wander the dark empty halls for a distraction. It's only when she finds herself at the kitchen door that she decides that this will be her destination. She knows that Bucky is there but doesn't know if he's looking for company or conversation. She walks through the kitchen towards the cabinet her bare feet whispering against the tile floor.

Wanda begins looking for tea or something hot to drink and focus on. Once she finds a small stash of Jasmine tea she pauses and glances over at her companion.] Do you want some?

poor sext attempt.

[stevegrogers]

You look lonely, want a little company?

[ #nailedit. ]

[rzhavyy]

Did you just use a line on me?

[Bucky's fairly sure he used to have better, even if these days it's hard to remember being that young man.]

I wouldn't mind. Gets kind of cold in here.

[stevegrogers]

More like an offer? A suggestion?

[ So smooth all the time. No wonder flirting never worked well for him but things with Bucky had always been different. He fell in love with the guy before he even really knew what the emotion meant. ]

[stephanierogers]

I have a surprise waiting for you.

[ ALLURING, RIGHT? ]

[rzhavyy]

What sort of surprise? Don't think I did anything to earn it.

[Maybe not the most alluring text by itself, but she certainly gets him interested.]

[redwitched]

Google has many interesting things.

[ A whole new world for sexy things. ]

[rzhavyy]

Now isn't that a fact. What caught your eye?

[He tries to keep track of the things that interest her. Even when it's not lingerie he'd really like to see her in.]

[ au ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ When Loki died and promptly survived dying, he decided "fuck it". While the idea of shoving it in Odin's face was tempting, he had no interest in seeing whether his adoptive father's word held water. Frigga was dead. Thor was off saving the world.

( he didn't look back, he didn't come to take Loki's body. )

( just as well. what kind of funeral rites could you hold for a monster anyway? )

So Loki drags himself out of the dust and filth of Svartalfheim, dresses himself in his armor and cloak and leaves. Midgard, unfortunately, would need to be his first stop. There were greater monsters in the cosmos and Loki did not wish to be undefended from those potential threats. While he may no longer have the Tessaract, the Scepter, at least, will afford him enough power to escape Thanos' grip. After a few months of shifting through the signals that Midgard was inundated with, Loki finally locates the scepter's siren call.

A secret base. "Hydra" apparently. Loki snorts, as he tears through it with ease, disarming the guards with tricks and illusions. Child's play. He finds the scepter, delighting in the feel in his hands . . . when a man in a chair catches his attention. On a whim, Loki breaks the holds as if they were made in paper. He does not wait for the man to speak, merely throws back a smirk as he leaves.

Chaos was in his veins. Who was he to deny his own whims? ]

[rzhavyy]

[He doesn't really know who he is anymore. His mind is an empty place of darkness, punctuated by pain and orders. They wipe him because they can never entirely break him, but like this they can keep him chained and docile. A weapon that follows directions as they talk about dragging order out of chaos and he clings to the few things that make sense when they've stripped him of everything that he once was.

He's in the chair, waiting for them to put the bit between his teeth as they run enough electricity through him to wipe the blood on his hands from his memory. He hates them for it, but it's hard to hold onto those feelings and he knows they're about to take them away, even as there's a feeling of something not-quite-right that itches between his shoulders.

Then there's a man who wraps slender fingers around the gold of a scepter. He breaks the restraints they hold him in, and the Soldier finds it easy to slip to his feet. He takes a breath and expects someone to stop him, but no one comes as he follows after the odd man. With the disarray of the guards it's easy to find a knife to slip into the back of his belt, a handgun on his left thigh, a carbine someone left on the floor. They'd been about to put him back under the ice, which meant they'd pulled most of his weaponry.

Weapons were one of the things that he knew, that always made sense. He trails after the figure with surprisingly silent steps. No words, just a shadow, a ghost. Unless someone seems like they might be a threat to the Soldier or his strange rescuer, at least. There's no real reason for him to follow the man, no order or programming.

But he doesn't know where else to go, so he follows.]

For Steve!

[rzhavyy]

[He doesn't quite know how long he's been doing this. Exploring unfamiliar places, trying to find the next portal, hoping this one will lead home. Or at least someplace familiar enough that he can pretend it is. Bucky's not sure he believes he can get back. But at the moment, his priority is getting out of this place. The world seems ruined, and apparently under some sort of martial law, it turns out. They caught him by surprise not long after he came through the Gate. They hit him with a taser, and he opted for staying down for the moment, finding out what he could before he punched his way through.

Listening to the soldier's chatter, pretending to be still unconscious, it sounds like he wasn't the only person they picked up. Some form of resistance, maybe? He doesn't know yet, but he holds onto the information anyway. They take the obvious weapons, but they don't strip him, leave the leather gloves and the long-sleeved shirt that hides his arm in place. Which is good for him. Eventually he finds himself in a cell; metal and wood that's seen better days.

He's still timing the movements of the soldiers, listening to the talk of 7483B1 who they think is hoarding water rations, and then on their next rotation they drag in someone else. He's not quite the man he remembers. Or so he thinks, anyway-- he wonders, sometimes. He'd just been getting his memory back, can he really trust what he thinks he remembers? But he stows those worries for later. More important things at hand. It's the uniform that catches his eyes, and he watches him through the bars until the soldiers walk back down the hall.]

Steve?

[His voice a conspiratorial whisper, two thirds doubt and the rest a traitorous sort of hope. Even if it's not his Steve, some other version of him, just the idea of a possible connection that meant something. The idea of someone he knew beyond a doubt he could rely on-- he could really use that these days.]

[livingsymbol]

[ He wasn't expecting to run into trouble as soon as he landed, but by now Steve is used to that being routine. Everything is trouble, even when he is supposed to be running a harmless test, and he can't even muster up surprise when going through the portal the Avengers found walks him right into a band of highly wary and apparently aggressive soldiers. The only thing that does catch him off-guard is the force with which they manage to hit him. The weapons they have to ensure their authority is maintained are fast and efficient, even managing to take Steve down before he has time to stop them from chasing after the other strangers that were out in the open. He gets hit by a taser shock and goes down, coming to as he's being dragged through the halls of a containment block and stripped of his shield.

When they toss him in a holding cell, he waits, staying down until the footsteps recede. He hears someone speak up a few moments later, apparently also waiting for the guards to leave. And that's his next surprise of the day: the owner of the voice knows his name. Steve lifts his head, turning toward the other prisoner. ]

That's right. Do I...?

[ The question dies out as he sees the other man, turning from wary curiosity to surprise. His eyes go to Bucky's left arm before meeting his eyes again. ]

How long have you been in here?

For Tony!

[rzhavyy]

[The last thing Bucky remembers, is the cold. That strange feeling of distant dreams, not-awareness, timestop. But then something happens. Something goes wrong, and he feels it like falling, from a great height, or across a great distance. He almost thinks it's one of those dreams of the train, except he can't see anything, and there's no wind in his face.

When he comes to a stop it's with a gut-wrenching blast of color that almost makes him sick. The frost seems to have melted, leaving him damp to the skin, a little off balance from the lack of his left arm. There's just that metal stump, the end wrapped in special black fabric designed to protect what remained of the internal mechanics. He's in some kind of lab, he realizes, and that has him moving, jerking back, trying to get to his feet, but the vertigo has him reeling, stumbling as blue eyes look around the room.

Under the situation the glimpse of a man that looks like Tony isn't as bad as it could be. Tony just wanted to kill him, and while he doesn't know the man well enough to trust him for much of anything, he's read enough about the Avengers to know that Steve worked with him. He knew that Tony had considered Steve a friend. And that counts for something. Tony also isn't in the suit.

Maybe he'd been under for so long that everything that happened were old sad memories to everyone else. Truthfully, he hadn't really expected to wake up again, but as he sucks harsh breaths into his lungs, he finds he's glad that he is. Though, maybe that's more stubbornness than anything else.

He looks around suspiciously, a cant of his head to the side, trying to clear his vision as he focuses on the man.]

Where am I?

[It seemed like a good starting question.]

616 Tony; El Nysa Stuff

[rzhavyy]

[He edges in as close as he feels comfortable with. He doesn't want to get caught himself, but at the same time, he can see that rising panic, and it drags his feet forward, even if he knows this is a bad idea. A down-right terrible idea. A Steve Rogers idea, even.]

I don't think you want my help with this.

[He speaks quietly, keeps his eyes on the plant, rather than Tony. There's the guilt that still echoes from their last interactions, so no, he's not just going to watch him get eaten, but Hell if he knows what he's supposed to do, here.]

That thing is-- [There's a vague gesture with the metal arm as he tries to figure out how to say that the only way to free him is with a fucking kiss.] It's exceptionally persistent mistletoe. [Watch him say that with a straight face, even a touch of a frown.]

[He's not kissing Tony. Not that the man would want him to, anyway. But there seems to be a decided lack of anyone else he can foist the job of rescuing Tony on.]

[definingfuture]

[ Tony's life has gotten significantly stranger over the years. There's really no way around it. From stopping the occasional bank heists to alien invasions and dealing with cosmic forces, the scope of normalcy has certainly shifted since the beginning of his career.

Being caught by an "exceptionally persistent mistletoe" as the man says, is actually less traumatic than a lot of the things he's faced lately. It does make Tony freeze, along with the flash of light he catches reflection from the metal arm as Bucky gestures, and his expression tightens as realization dawns with that blinding glare. Then he goes back to pulling against the climbing vines, which only seems to be making his situation worse. ]

All right, all right. Come on, quick.

[ He's totally expecting Bucky to make the sacrifice of kissing him. ]

dumb shippy PSL stuff

[underachievement]

Gods and Monsters

[hiddenidentity]

If I try to open your door will anything explode?

[rzhavyy]

Yes.

I'm okay.

[That's not actually true. The nightmares have been bad, and he could probably use the company. But it still takes a while for Bucky to admit to that.]

For Steph and Tasha!

[rzhavyy]

[What he remembers is falling.

He remembers how she reached for him, how the metal gave and the weightless of falling that didn't last nearly long enough. He remembers the collision with the cliff, the tearing, the blinding pain and screaming as he fell so fast he could hardly breathe. The blood soaking into the fabric and the cold freezing it as he fell.

He doesn't quite remember what happened after that entirely clearly. He knows he was still screaming when Stephen pulled him out of time and into the Sanctum Santorum. And to his credit, the Doctor dealt with his arm so he didn't bleed out, gave him a chance for a shower, food, a cup of tea.

And then he leaves him standing at the front door to Avengers Tower after mystically ringing the doorbell.

Bucky doesn't look like a relic from another decade, but he is. And missing an arm, his short hair neatly brushed back from his face, some lingering superficial bruising from the fight that feels like hours ago, not decades. Bucky's still reeling. He's looking less at the Avengers' front door and just around at the way the city screams past even as he stands still. The cars, and the lights, the noise, and how everything's changed.]

[modelsixtythree]

[Natasha can deal with a lot of things. She can roll with the goddamn punches with the best of them and come out on top because she's a Stark and that's what they do.

Stephen Strange, on the other hand, seems to be bound and determined to get on her last nerve. So when JARVIS informs her that the man himself is outside and metaphorically ringing the doorbell, she's more than happy to ignore it. For about a minute. Before JARVIS is essentially clearing his throat and letting her know that the good doctor left something behind.

It's only the knowledge that the asshole wouldn't actually do something damaging that keeps her from getting the armor as she stomps her way all the way down to the lobby. And comes face to face with a dead man standing just outside.

Okay, so maybe there are a few things she can't quite deal with.]

JARVIS, call Steph. Now.

[Somehow, she sounds almost calm as she says it. Probably because her brain has clicked offline somewhere.]