im so fucking excited for black panther 😩tbt to when I commissioned this art :')
im so fucking excited for black panther 😩tbt to when I commissioned this art :')
In the field, there are two options. You win, or you die. A good operative will never /once/ think of abandoning the cause. The moment failure becomes an option, it takes one step closer to being a reality. You win, or you die. It's as simple as that. And if you're good enough… you simply win.
*ahem* Mild spoilers for Tales of Suspense #100 So, I'll start off with the obvious. Natasha's death was shocking, but when they announced a five issue arc in the comic series she began with, I got both nervous and excited. Nervous, because it could be a seal on her death-- a closing to her story. Excited, because of the team-up we get. Hawkeye and Winter Soldier once again coming together for Natasha's sake. The first issue is always plain build up, so I tried not to overhype it. Over all, I can see them going somewhere interesting with this. I'm still unsure if Nat is alive, but I HOPE she is. As for the panel in the picture, that is complete bullshit. Here's the thing: I COULD possibly see some sort of symbol system like that working if it were to prove they completed their kill. However, it would be VERY easy to pick up a pattern and frame someone for a kill that wasn't theirs. I foresee many issues arising with that system, especially since the mark isn't left on the body itself. Plus, it would require someone following each kill, searching the scene of the crime for the mark, and then confirming it. What's the point of having these expertly trained assassins if you double check their work? Plus, none of them were in it for accreditation. They served their country, they served their superiors, but they didn't do it for the recognition. As a matter of fact, they weren't allowed to. And finally, Natasha's black widow symbol is fitting for her, but let's not forget there was more than one black widow on the field. How could they keep track of which widow it was, since there's not many ways to fashion the symbol differently? I don't know, this really bothered me 😂🙄I tend to care a lot when anything involving Natasha's past is mentioned. This organization was very detail oriented, and I just don't see them putting forth such a risky and potentially sloppy system. At any rate, we'll see what happens in future issues.
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀Thump. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀Thump. ⠀⠀ Sporadic at first, the sounds from the floor below the Black Widow’s apartment were settling into a rhythm. They became more consistent than before, and loud enough to keep her awake. Likely, this meant her poor neighbor had given up. The woman was about 5’2, with a petite frame. She was fragile, but when Natasha had seen her around, she had a /look/ in her eyes. That look told Romanoff this woman knew how to take a beating. Probably because of how frequent she received them. Cops had been called before, other neighbors had tried to intervene. Most were too frightened to get involved all together. Natasha was rarely at her apartment, but had caught wind of the wife beater below her almost as soon as she moved in. No matter who tried to help, though… the woman never left him. He likely threatened her if she did… but it was more than that. She was not stuck, she was afraid. Cases like this drove Natasha mad. It physically /pained/ her to see a woman suffer physically and mentally only to keep from being alone. Did these women think they would not be loved otherwise? ‘Love isn’t everything’, she thought to herself. ‘Self preservation means something too.’ The sound of the door slamming from below snapped her from her thoughts. Natasha tossed her sheets aside, running to her door. She scaled the stairs with ease, but after arriving at the disturbed residence, she was greeted by the back of another figure standing in the doorway. Tall, muscular, with a brown leather jacket. (cont.)
Amongst a group of wicked minds, there are differences. These differences mark them, they determine what sort of threat they bring. Some seek to destroy the cosmos. Their power is unmatched, stopped only by great sacrifice. They want human kind to suffer as a whole. And then… there are those driven by vengeance. The goals set by these are not to destroy mankind. No, they are much more detailed. And for the ones sought after, much more feared. These are the people who see the mind as a toy. They take their vengeance to new levels. At a point, it is no longer about the accused. Everyone around them becomes a target. Attachment always comes at a cost. Is it worth the price you pay? [Welcome @leo.novokov, I look forward to writing with you.]
Is it just me, or does this look like the team to be on? 😏
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀Someone holds me safe and warm. ⠀⠀ ⠀Horses prance through a silver storm. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀Figures dancing gracefully ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Across my memory... ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Far away, long ago, ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Glowing dim as an ember, ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Things my heart ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Used to know, ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀Things it yearns to remember... ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And a song ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Someone sings ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Once upon a December…
“Yeah, yeah. Me and the Mrs caught a glimpse of the drama just before we left– the minute Stacy picked up that glass of vino, it was time to go.” From their position behind the monitors, the security guards continued their mindless chatter about an event they attended the night prior. Their obliviousness was a blessing, as the looped footage displayed before them caused no suspicion whatsoever. Companies such as AudioTex needed to invest in better security, Romanoff thought to herself. Sneaking around was becoming almost too doable. That’s when the uneasy feeling hit her. Prestigious criminal agencies kept tight reins on their safeguards. Even the most trivial positions had better personnel. So, the ease of the situation only made it more ominous. Weeks prior, news broke of mass shootings followed by suicides. While common, SHIELD took interest in the background of the so called “killers.” All were somehow involved with the KGB at some point in their lives. This brought about Natasha’s involvement, to which she eventually found a lead. After the Red Room left it’s legacy of experimenting with the human brain (specifically how to manipulate it), other branches of the KGB began to follow suit. Most came out with no luck, with the exception of one. Karina Berinova, a top medical aid in the sleeper program developed a neuro-hypnotic reprogramming system. It allowed a sequence of audio to manipulate feedback loops within the brain. It gave a way for them to communicate orders with mere white noise. The system was rarely used, and eventually was deemed unfit for use. It wouldn’t be impossible for it to return, however. As Natasha was familiar with the program, SHIELD deployed her to investigate. (CIC)
Happy Halloween. One of my favorite holidays, simply because it takes little effort to pretend to be someone else.
We've watched an entire Harry Potter marathon, we've gone through countless corny shows together, we game hard when we're in the mood… when we're not, we're breaking each other's hearts with dark and depressing roleplays. And when I need a friend, sometimes we just can sit in silence over Skype. I know you're always there, and though I can't physically be with you on your birthday, I'm so glad I have this opportunity to show the world how lucky I am to be your friend. Happy birthday! P.S- @avi_kaplan , you should follow @the.hawkeye
Identity is subjective to the beholder. The self, as a conscious entity, is mostly illusion. It can be likened to a hand puppet conjured into being by an underlying presence-- which, in turn, seeks permanence it cannot possess. A concept I've mulled over more than once. Taking on a life of so many faces (the life of a spy) can mean losing ones true identity. Act one way, speak another. How can you differentiate what's real and what's not? I wish I had an answer. For me, it's strong roots. Pleasant or not, my memories provide a background that is mine and mine alone. They've left a mark on my person, identifying me as different from the lives I take on. There have been those who try to lift that mark, to rip those memories from me. And for that reason, that is all they will become. A memory.
#DeathOfDaredevil Inside the recently established apartment complex within Little Ukraine, Manhattan was where the infamous Natasha Romanoff resided. Her location was known to a few close friends, generally those who wanted to check on her from time to time… and that list was short. The names of those people were often ones she spoke to often. Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Yelena Belova… but a name even more rare on the list: Matt Murdock. Natasha and Matt had a history of fall outs. They would be good for a time, until they weren't. It never stopped them from caring for each others well being, but they couldn't ever establish the relationship they wanted. Which was okay. The two of them were generally better off alone, anyway. Work consumed her as of late, and it was the first time in a long time since she was home. Hearing a knock on her door made her unsure of who her visitor was. Clint had a key, so he usually waltzed right in. Phil didn't knock that way. But she was too exhausted for a stealthy attack. "Friend or foe?" She called out, turning her head towards the door from her spot in the living room.
A little preview of my next post…
Coming December 20th, 2017. *screaming* I am EXTREMELY hyped for this. It feels good to know that her death will at least be avenged. I knew James would. Clint too. They saw the good in her that no one else could see. She deserved to have a cleared name.
#TheOffendersRP //Continued from previous posts.// "Pay attention." Romanoff hissed. It had been an hour or so since she arrived at the apartment of Clint Barton, who was conveniently residing in Chicago as of a few weeks prior to her HYDRA assignment. Her stern look remained focused on the sandy haired man, who gave a sheepish grin in return. His tongue lapped at the coffee that remained on his upper lip after he sipped, his broad shoulders shrugging. "Nat, I get it. Guy was old as balls, you pulled a James Bond on 'em, and now you want reliable backup. Arguably the best backup in the worl--" Before he could finish, Natasha threw the spoon from her mug at him in annoyance. Her relying on him got to his head, she thought to herself. Perhaps she was losing her touch. He used to quiver in fear at her threats. Now he shook them off. That came with years of friendship, she supposed. Which was why she didn't become close to people often. Catching the spoon without even a blink, he set his mug down. "C'mon. It's not like we haven't done this, like, a zillion times." He had a point, they had been on countless successful missions before. Underestimating hydra, however, was never smart. "I agree this is doable, but it isn't as if we have an extraction, or Coulson to monitor unseen threats. This is old school, Clint. You, me, and entirely too many men in green." He sighed, wiping his hand over his face. "Green is so ugly." He mumbled, shaking his head. "Yes." She agreed, sipping her tea. "Y'know, I just put down 3 months rent to see if I like it here." Nat gazed at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you?" He nodded. "Yup. I have so much unboxing to do, and now those douches are threatening to fill my new city with poisonous gas." He pouted. She rolled her eyes, standing up. "Enough whining. The quicker we plan this, the quicker it can be over with and you can finish unpacking your innumerable supply purple shirts." He nodded. "Well, then, let's get started."
#OutØfCover I'm currently switching up my theme a bit. Time for a change I suppose. Activity will return to normal, my hurricane evacuation delayed some of my responses. My replies will be sent out shortly, and if anyone wants to start a new rp, feel free to let me know :)
She remembered he preferred gentle materials. Not only the touch, but the sound. So, she wore a white silk blouse. She remembered he didn't like hair tied up. Same reasoning, not only to touch, but to hear. So, she wore it down; the red curls cascading over her shoulders. She remembered his dislike for strong smells. But she also remembered his favorite scents. Imported oils, consisting faintly of lavender. The smell differed from person to person, but something about it just screamed Natasha. She used to wear for his liking. She wore it again. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ But, things were strictly business, she told herself. He was a lawyer, she needed a lawyer. Was he the /only/ lawyer Natasha had connections with? No. He was the best one, though. And she needed someone she could trust. Her stiletto pumps made a clicking sound as she stepped through the doors of Nelson and Murdock. Karen sat at the front, her attention turning to the curvy redhead as she walked in. "Hello, can I help you?" The blonde questioned, peeking over her computer curiously. Nat glanced her way, shifting the files she held from one arm to the other. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "No, I don't think so. I'm here to see Matt?" Karen blinked a couple times upon hearing the informal name, clearing her throat. A beautiful woman looking for Matt-- why wasn't she surprised? "Well, he just got back from lunch, I don't think he's r--" she pauses, hearing the door to his office open. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ [ #ADealWithHerDevil ]
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ #TheOffendersRP ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ "Ms. Rushman, Mr. Baven will see you now." The secretary's voice pulled the redheaded woman from her thoughts. With a faint smile, she was led to the office of the renowned Earl Baven. He was a representative for the Adler Planetarium located in Chicago, Illinois. A few days prior, Natasha called to set up this meeting under the alias of Natalie Rushman-- a personal assistant to John Erving, the rich philanthropist. It was a generic cover, one used many times by undercover agents. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ No matter the extent of her alias, it was a way in to the planetarium's head resources. Underground sources reported that beneath the planetarium, HYDRA operated. Rumor was, they were manufacturing a toxic chemical combination that if released, would set the stage for biological warfare. It was hinted that this was a blackmail ploy, in order to manipulate the governmental side of things. This sort of operation would not only attract heroes, but mercenaries, freelance agents, and anyone who could make a dime off the chemical weapon. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ With any luck, though, Romanoff could expose the scheme before it progressed too far. Finding out about the planetarium was a good start. Locating the records she needed, however, was an on site task. As she moved into the office of Mr Baven, he welcomed her kindly. "Welcome to Adler Planetarium, Ms, Rushman. I trust your trip was comfortable?" With a flirtatious smile, she took a seat in front of his desk. "Quite. And please, call me Natalie." He nodded, returning the smile. "Natalie it is! I must say, we were very pleased to hear Mr. Erving has taken an interest in our site in particular. May I ask what caught his interest?" Shifting her pencil skirt a bit, she crossed her legs. ⠀⠀(cont'd.)