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Skilled Phantom

This is a private roleplay between ghoullia & Secret Soldier.
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Skilled Phantom

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ѕтeve rogerѕ
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                                As he walked through the busy streets of his new home, the Captain came to realize that dressing fashionably had taken on a whole new meaning, at least for the current youth, when compared to how he had been raised. Gone were the days where day to day wear for young men was a nicely-pressed shirt and a good jacket. Instead, there were only sagging pants, excessive jewelry, and rather confusing t-shirts with sayings that he still did not quite grasp the meaning of thanks to his 70-year sleep. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks, a casual collared shirt hanging from his muscular frame, Steve took his time as he walked through the busy avenues of the city, taking in every detail that he possibly could. Even after being awakened from his sleep and running around with the Avengers to save the planet, there was still a lot that he didn't fully understand. Many trends still escaped his grasp, to his own embarrassment, so he tended not to speak about them, especially whenever Tony was within earshot. Thankfully, all of the Avengers were on their respective vacations, doing whatever suited their fancy until Fury decided to call them in once again for an urgent mission. A baseball cap, tilted just so that his eyes were concealed, helped him to remain anonymous within the bustling crowds on the sidewalks.

                                Turning down a road that led to the park nearby, Steve caught a glimpse of the Smithsonian on the horizon, busy with visitors as it was every day. He visited the museum whenever he felt the sudden urge to view his life from long ago, which had been carefully cataloged along with the lives of the other Howling Commanders. One exhibit in particular still brought grief to the forefront of his heart; Bucky Barnes. Before the events of the past few months, the exhibit had just brought regrets and 'what ifs' to his mind, like 'what if I had caught him' and 'what if he hadn't followed me into danger', but now the exhibit brought a whole new train of thoughts into his mind. He knew that Bucky was alive, but he was not the Bucky that he once knew. Now, all that was left of his best friend was an empty shell full of twisted and altered memories. He held HYDRA fully responsible, and fully intended to continue his hunt for what remained of their underground organization once Fury allowed him back into the field. The SHIELD leader had insisted that Steve take some time off, so that he didn't stress himself.

                                Moving along the less-crowded sidewalks of the park, passing an occasional jogger or biker here and there, Steve found his eyes wandering to a couple close by. They were young, at least in Steve's eyes, and they were kneeling in the green grass as their baby girl hobbled between them on unsteady legs, an innocent grin spread across the her face as little peals of laughter escaped her whenever she was complimented by her watchful parents. It was a heart-warming scene, which brought a faint smile to the Captain's lips. Some small part of Steve had always longed for a family of his own, but while he was still a young man in Brooklyn, that dream seemed rather far-fetched. He had never given up hope of finding someone to spend the rest of his life with, and he had honestly believed that he and Peggy would've become something more if he had not crashed into the ice, but he could not dwell on what might have been. As Peggy had said herself, he needed to start over. His old life was gone, and his new life was about to begin.

                                All of his thinking made him hungry, so Steve glanced around in search of somewhere to get a bite to eat. A small diner caught his eye off on the edge of the park. It was around that time between lunch and dinner where everyone was still not very hungry, so there appeared to be almost no crowd at the small establishment. Moving in the direction of the diner, Steve quickly patted his pants pocket to make sure that he still had his wallet with him. When he was reassured that it was still there, he entered the diner with the little bell on the door signaling his arrival. It was a well-kept and modern diner, and Steve eventually found himself seated at the small bar that was set up close to the kitchen. Besides an older couple sitting in one of the booths, he was the only one there. Deciding on what he wanted, which was a chicken sandwich and a soda, he placed his order with one of the waitresses before leaning back on his stool, taking in the features of the diner. In comparison to the diners he used to eat in before he became the Captain, it was certainly different.


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тнe world нaѕ cнanged, and none oғ υѕ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx █ ✪ █ can g o в a c ĸ xxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxall we can do xxxx ιѕ oυr вeѕт
xxxxxxxx▪ ▪ ▪AND SOMETIMES THE BEST THAT WE CAN DO xxx ιѕ тo ѕтarт over
W H E N I woke up, they s a i d we won the war. T H E Y didn't say what we l o s t.

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

Secret Soldier

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JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
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ᴛнᴇ ᴡιɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅιᴇʀ

                Till the end of the line.

                Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes could vaguely remember saying that at some unsung point in his life - the familiarity became known during that last fight. But the way that Steve had said it, the emotion, the need for something that Bucky had no ability to give him - had brought him a degree of comfort despite the pent-up anger and angst that he experienced on a day to day basis. That phrase was the sole reason why he lugged that man out of the water, not leaving him to die, even though every order in his mind told him otherwise. The orders, the words and the commands had eventually subsided, but not until he had made it clear to himself - a promise - that he would not pursue his old friend until he had answers. Until he could form the slightest bit of a story, and be sure that it wasn't some figment of his imagination that had been programmed and implanted into his head. Instinctively - at least at the basic emotional level - he didn't want to hurt anyone else if he didn't have to. That included those who may or may not have once been his friends.

                Former Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes bent his head, lowering the baseball cap as he looked down at the once familiar face. He was watching a small clip of he and Steve Rogers, and he stared intently trying to force himself to remember something for at least a fraction of a second, but there was nothing. It frustrated him. He came here for answers, and he got a few. But they weren't the answers to the certain questions that he wanted most. He wanted to know what he did, what time he came from, how he ended up with the Russians, then Hydra, and most of all - he wanted to know why Captain America thought they were 'friends'. His lips set into a grim line across his face and he averted his eyes elsewhere, taking in his surroundings. He was at the Smithsonian - the Captain America exhibit, specifically. Folks young and old, sporting Captain America fan t-shirts and baseball caps, practically overfilled the spacious main room. His feet took him into the next room where a reel of videos played.

                Lowering himself onto the small wooden bench next to a mother and daughter, the Soldier lifted his head and gazed up at the screen and subtly zipped up his hoodie a little more to hide the point where his arm met his neck. If he didn't hide it properly then people would automatically know who he was - he didn't want or need that kind of attention. Bucky stared at the screen, trying to absorb every piece of information. It was him, he knew that much, but what he read, he couldn't recall. It hurt his head, attempting to put the pieces together of everything that he managed to find. He found it amazing, the amount of records that had been kept in the years since the war. The memories would flash at the most unlikely moments, the smell of a deli on an unfamiliar street in Brooklyn, a song on the radio. But with simple memories there also came nightmares. Horrible, horrible nightmares that Bucky just couldn't seem to shake. The most reoccurring nightmare was of him reaching out to Steve Rogers, and he's reaching back, screaming for him, and then suddenly he just... falls. He would wake up then - screaming with beads of perspiration clinging to his temples, torso covered in cold sweat.

                He didn't know how long he had been sitting there for but when he finally looked away, he was the only one in the room. A security guard entered seconds later. "We're closing up the place, bud." The man informed, giving a curt nod of his head before leaving, obviously expecting him to do the same. Bucky obliged and stuck his fists into the pockets of his hoodie, head hanging low as he walked hastily toward the exit. It was a beautiful summer night - slight chill in the air, sky a deep hazy blue, the only light casted by the glowing streetlights. He loved the smell of the air. It was the smell of freedom. Hydra took his freedom away completely. Hell, they took everything away and left him with a damned metal arm. Bucky's targets were branded into his brain. The names and faces of the people who were linked in the Winter Soldier Project one way or another - they were all going down. Well, the ones he remembered anyways. He had already killed off three - and his next target was the man who provided the chemicals and such that were injected into him.

                His hands balled up into fists of anger in his pockets, and before he knew it, he was running. Not bothering to pay attention to the road he was about to sprint across.

Skilled Phantom

ghoullia

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❝ ι'м ιмpoѕѕιвle тo ғorgeт, вυт нard тo reмeмвer.❞

█ docтor вrιanne нυgнeѕ



                                  Exhaustion. Pure, complete exhaustion. Running a hand through her unruly auburn hair, her eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses despite the fact that it was close to midnight, a young woman mentally cursed the people who made her stay out late until she was about to keel over from the slightest gust of wind. Her car, expensive but not too classy, appeared to be the only one on the road, save for a taxi that was a good few car-lengths ahead. Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, she felt her mind begin to drift back to the events that had led up to her current desire to fall asleep as soon as her car was parked safely at home.

                                  Doctor Brianne Hughes, known commonly as Brie among her friends, was one of the top surgeons in the country. Her work in the medical field was well-known and had led to a rather nice influx of money to pay off her medical school bills, along with a spike in publicity that happened to be noticed by a certain defense organization that believed her certain skill set would be an asset to their medical program. As luck would have it, Nick Fury also had a certain interest in a little genetic tweak that made Brianne such a successful doctor. Her eyes. Brianne was born with a strange genetic mutation that severely altered the composition of her eyes. She was gifted with the ability to zoom her eyes in and out at will, almost like a camera lens. They could see through almost any substance, which was why she was such an effective doctor, and they also allowed her to see in the dark. Due to these strange abilities, her eyes were constantly changing color, sometimes taking on rather bright compound color palates that alarmed those around her. After the first few times someone had almost fainted while her eyes swiftly flickered between a bright green and a dull yellow, Brie had donned sunglasses and now rarely took them off. They helped to keep her blended with the crowd, and also served as a rather stylish fashion accessory.

                                  A job was offered to Brianne, a job at SHIELD. She accepted, and soon found herself working with the Avengers Initiative. Brie was introduced to the famous Dr. Banner and they hit it off rather well, discussing certain areas of science that only Tony could really keep up with. Oftentimes, Fury would assign Brianne and Bruce to work together on certain experiments, knowing full well that Tony would be detrimental to the project if asked to assist. When Brianne wasn't working with Bruce on one of Fury's projects, she was given the task of keeping a medical history of all of the Avengers, especially Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. Both of them were miracles of science; Tony with his heart and Steve with his serum. She spent hours upon hours sorting through information about their past medical history, something that she found rather enjoyable. Due to recent events, Brianne had also begun to research into the medical history of the Winter Soldier, with some help from Natasha, but they had not gotten very far. Her current state of exhaustion, however, was brought on not because of research, but because Tony had insisted that they throw a party for Hawkeye's birthday. Brianne couldn't refuse the invitation, since Hawkeye was one of her friends, but she was still exhausted by the time the party ended.

                                  Brianne's thoughts distracted her from the road ahead. The faintest glimpse of movement caught her attention, her eyes flickering into night vision as they had done their whole life, just in time to see a man walk straight into the road without even glancing to see if a car was coming. Eyes widening, Brie slammed on the breaks, but she still felt the distinct 'thump' of something hitting the hood of her car. Mind racing, guilt building in her gut even though the man was also to blame for the incident, the young doctor scrambled out of her car after tossing it in neutral, moving towards the man with her sunglasses still on her face. Giving him a quick once-over, she used her enhanced vision to scan him for injuries. Thankfully, there were no broken bones, but signs of a minor concussion, which led to his current state of unconsciousness. Worry grew in the pit of her stomach, and Brianne knew that she couldn't just leave him out in the streets. Bending down, she wrapped her arms around him as best she could, carrying (and slightly dragging) the man to the passenger side of her vehicle and somehow managing to get him strapped into the seat.

                                  Back on the road in minutes, Brianne silently continued driving back towards her apartment. Once they arrived, she fully intended on taking care of the man that she had hit, since it was partly her fault that he was in this mess. Turning towards a nice district of town, the young woman glanced sideways when the man finally stirred. Feeling slightly relieved, she spoke quietly as he came-to. "Try not to move too much. You've got a bit of a concussion from bouncing off the hood of my car. I'll get some medicine for you once we get back to my apartment." Speaking of her apartment, the young woman pulled into her designated parking spot moments later. One she was parked, she moved around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. "Do you think you can walk by yourself, or do you need some help?"

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

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              █████████████████████████7D0S A M A N T H A..C A R T E R

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                        It wasn't easy - being constantly on the run from the past. Samantha Carter had been doing just that since the youthful age of only sixteen years old. Her father, David Carter, like his mother before him, was a skillful high-ranking agent of SHIELD. Nearly everyone he knew held eminent respect for him - especially Samantha. She looked up to him like a small child would to their favourite superhero. Being the only child, she absorbed all of the attention and although she was quite the spoiled little thing, she was never a snob about it. She could remember the day vividly - the day that she had received an unexpected phone call from the Police Department informing her of her fathers 'incidental' death. Samantha knew that she was being fed lies from the start, even though they themselves didn't even know they were lying. Only a few days prior, David had made her swear that if anything should happen to him, that she must run. Pack her bags and flee. He refused to give her an explanation but that didn't stop her from taking heed the moment that call ended. Gratefully, David left his daughter with a thick wad of cash - along with an unexpected gift. A beautiful silver necklace that had once belonged to her decedent mother, and before that, his own mother - Peggy Carter.

                        A sigh of exhaustion left her ruby red lips once she finished wiping off one of the many tables in the room. It wasn't much of a task at all but the woman had been working her a** off since 9:00AM, and it was just going onto 6:15PM now. Her feet were sore as hell in the skanky pumps her manager made her wear. He insisted that they 'completed' the look - she (like all of the other waitresses) was clad in a short black skirt and a tight white v-neck with the diner's name imprinted on the chest area. Samantha thought the uniform was degrading and she most definitely did not enjoy the type of looks she received from most men who catered there, but what could she do? Complain about it? No, because that would only result in loosing her job. Tucking a few strands of loose brunette tresses behind her ear, Samantha flashed a dazzling smile at an elderly couple that were looking for a table and encouraged them to occupy the one she had just cleaned up. They complied and she took their orders before heading to the back, pinning them up for the chef.

                        The poor guy looked more exhausted than she did and he glared at her when he saw her pin up the set of orders, Samantha smiling sheepishly as she apologized. He grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath before signalling for Samantha to just go ahead and leave. She slumped down into the closest stool and yawned softly, pouring herself a tall glass of cold water. She really shouldn't have been sitting down; she would be yelled at if someone saw her. Samantha quickly downed the beverage before setting the cup down and scurrying off to assist more customers. She chatted with most of the customers whenever she could, learning a lot about the type of people that came in. Some only came in for the bar that was located in the middle of the restaurant, but she chatted with them too, even though the bartender was supposed to be taking care of them. Samantha really did love her job even though some may say the pay was horrible. She shrugged at that, she couldn't exactly say she had any experience anywhere else.

                        "Order up!" The chef announced, sliding a chicken sandwich plate across the counter along with a glass of fizzy soda. Samantha gladly took the delivery and walked as hastily as her heels could take her, circling around the crammed tables until she finally reached the gentleman sporting the baseball cap. She forced her signature smile - which couldn't help but appear a little fatigued - as she leaned over to set the sandwich in front of the male, her necklace falling out of place when she did so. God, she hoped he wouldn't put up a fuss about the wait. She honestly did not know if she'd be able to put up with that. "My apologies for the wait, sir. We are always exceedingly busy around this time of day." She gave a breathy chuckle, placing his drink down too. Her crystal blue eyes flickered over to the man briefly as she did so, although from the angle that she was looking at him from, most of his face was hidden by the baseball cap.

Skilled Phantom

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ѕтeve rogerѕ
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                                Steve let his mind wander while he waited for his food, tapping his foot softly in rhythm to the soft music that was playing in the background of the diner, only audible due to the fact that there were only three customers currently and they weren't talking very loudly. It was strange, being able to take the time to slow down and actually notice things around him that were not about to kill him. Ever since he had woken up from his sleep, he had either been working with the Avengers to save the world, off on a mission with Natasha, or hunting down HYDRA and his old friend. Now that he was being forced to take time off, he almost felt as if he was in a whole new life, a domesticated one where he wasn't Captain America. Instead, he was just Steve Rogers, a guy from Brooklyn who happened to look like a certain superhero who had recently been on the news.

                                Hearing a small 'click click' sound, a noise Steve had begun to associate with the current fashion of high heels, he glanced up to spot a waitress approaching him with his food and drink. She apologized for the wait, but Steve had hardly noticed the time pass. Maybe it was just his patient nature. Reaching up, he tipped the rim of his hat down slightly in thanks, which was a common gesture from his time period; the mark of a gentleman. "No need for apologies, ma'am. I hardly noticed the time passing." The faintest glint of silver caught Steve's attention, drawing his attention away from his food and back to his server. Spotting the necklace, Steve felt a small wave of nostalgia take over him. He had seen a necklace very similar to the one she wore before he had been frozen in ice. After his attention moved away from the necklace, he noticed just how tired his server appeared to be, as if she had been working all day. Tilting his hat up slightly, so that she could see his face a bit more clearly, he flashed a friendly grin before speaking again. "That's a beautiful necklace. It reminds me of one that a dear friend of mine used to wear."

                                Patting the stool next to him, he scoot his own over slightly as if to make more room for her. "You look like you need to get off of your feet. Do you want to sit down and keep me company? A good conversation always brightens my day, along with meeting new people." Diners were always good places to meet new people, since eating is normally the best time for people to get to know one another while bonding over a shared task. At least, that is what Steve had come to believe. After eating a few bites of his sandwich and sipping some of his drink, he wiped his hands and then flashed another small grin towards his waitress. "I'm Steve, by the way. What's your name?" The Captain had recently started to introduce himself with just his first name, since now the world knew him for his last name and his Captain's uniform. The waitress didn't seem like the kind of person to blow his cover, but it was still better to be safe than sorry. Nick Fury had once told him to 'trust no one', and on most occasions Steve stuck to that rule as if his life depended on it. He trusted the Avengers and a few others, but otherwise he was skeptical of everyone.

                                As he ate and waited for his companion to respond to his questions, his blue-gray eyes kept glancing towards the waitress's face, as if something about it was sparking the faintest memory in his mind. He could not put his finger on it, but she definitely reminded him of someone. The first person he thought of was Natasha, but he quickly threw that idea away. Natasha's face was a lot more angular and dangerous, lacking the slight softness that he saw in this woman's features. His next thought was of Maria Hill, the woman that often worked alongside Nick Fury as his second in command, but there was still something...not matching up between the two. Finding that his thoughts were wandering a bit too far from the current conversation, he refocused his attention on the woman so that he could hear her responses. There would be time to mull over who she looked like later; hopefully the similarities would put themselves together in his mind while they were talking. Otherwise, Steve would probably end up staying up the whole night trying to figure it out. He hated it when a puzzle presented itself and he couldn't figure it out.


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тнe world нaѕ cнanged, and none oғ υѕ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx █ ✪ █ can g o в a c ĸ xxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxall we can do xxxx ιѕ oυr вeѕт
xxxxxxxx▪ ▪ ▪AND SOMETIMES THE BEST THAT WE CAN DO xxx ιѕ тo ѕтarт over
W H E N I woke up, they s a i d we won the war. T H E Y didn't say what we l o s t.

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

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JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
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ᴛнᴇ ᴡιɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅιᴇʀ

                Bucky was instantly alert the moment he opened his eyes. He was in a moving vehicle, and the seat was quite soft compared to what he was used to. He had taken to sleeping in well hidden spots over the last few weeks, usually in alleyways or in some instances, abandoned houses. It was always so difficult to fall asleep, too, since he couldn't help but feel the need to be constantly aware. And when he did sleep, it wasn't peaceful in the slightest. The soldier blinked before squeezing his eyes shut, slowly lifting a hand to touch his temple when he experienced a jolt of pain. A woman's voice grasped his attention so he turned his head slightly to gaze at the other, staying silent. He remembered he had just finished at the Smithsonian, and he was on his way to find Tyler Clark, the man who made the chemicals and such that were injected into Bucky. Then he had ran. But he hadn't bothered to pay attention to the road. Then there was a pair of bright lights and... then it was just darkness. Next thing he knew, he was waking up in a vehicle sitting next to a woman of whom he did not know he could trust.

                It smelled faintly of vanilla in there, which of course was coming from the car fresher hanging off the rear view. And then suddenly he became aware of his own smell. He was sure that anyone who came within a two foot radius would gag from the smell, he hadn't showered in weeks. His dark hair was a tattered, tangled mess (which probably gave off a foul odour as well), and the bags under his eyes had only grown. His face was also sunken in from lack of nutrients. He wouldn't be surprised if she thought he was just another crazy homeless man. Subconsciously, Bucky patted down his jacket to ensure his weaponry was still equipped - his dagger and his SIG - the only gun he didn't get rid of when he decided to run away. He was thankful for all of the languages and hand-to-hand combat. He could kill a man with a ballpoint pen in 335 completely different ways, so he didn't necessarily need a gun. But it did, however, help him sleep better at night. Moments later, the vehicle came to a halt and Bucky turned to watch with a steady gaze as the woman climb out of the car and circle around to the passenger side.

                There was a click, and the door opened up. Her question was what paranoid him - he didn't want anyone touching him, not even a friendly-looking woman like herself. "I'm fine." he managed to say, voice hoarse due to his dry throat. The soldier slowly swung his legs out of the car, noticing a slight pain in his knee joints but not anything that he couldn't handle. Leisurely, he rose to his full height of 6'2" while clasping the door for some support. Part of him wanted to tell the woman that he would be fine, that he could just leave without anymore of her help, but he had an odd feeling she wouldn't let that happen. Stepping aside to let her shut the door, Bucky walked slowly with the woman to her front porch, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He didn't plan on staying there for long. Hydra was still after him, and he was after Hydra. Taking down Hydra had become his mission. But, for the time being, all he wanted to do was take some medicine to numb the pain, eat something since there was a growing ball of hunger in the pit of his stomach, and, if the woman would be gracious enough to allow it - grab a quick and thorough shower.

                He turned his head once they stepped inside, letting his gaze wander, but at the same time never letting the woman leave his line of sight. Her house was very nicely decorated and appeared so... clean. Suddenly Bucky felt very out of place. Looking down at the beautiful flooring, he figured he should at least do the courtesy of taking off his disgusting muddy boots. He bent down and untied the laces, slipping each his feet out. His socks were dirt crusted and felt very uncomfortable, same with his jeans and his shirt.


BUT WHAT THE WORLD FAILS TO REALIZE
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xxxxxxxxx is that a v i l l i a n is just a v i c t i m
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxx whose s t o r y has not been t o l d.

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

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                                Well, someones mother had taught them good manners. That was a change. Usually, the young men that dined there were contemptible horny assholes who refused to render even the slightest amount of respect towards their waitresses. They threw flirtatious yet quite demeaning comments around constantly, some of them going as far as slapping their backsides. And although Samantha wasn't afraid to speak her mind, or give them hell when they attempted the same tactics with her (unlike her coworkers), it never seemed to stop them. On several occasions she spoke to her manager although he never cared enough to do anything about it. Samantha wanted nothing more than to just quit but being as she had no means of transportation, and since the diner was located so close to her apartment complex, she decided to just deal with it until she could hopefully line up another job that was in the area.

                                Samantha smiled in relief at the man's words but before she could say something like "enjoy your food", he mentioned the necklace. Instinctively she lifted a hand to gently clasp the jewel in between her thumb and forefinger, as it was very delicate. "Really?" She quirked her perfectly shaped brows, smiling softly. "This was passed down from my grandmother. She was a liaison in WWII, god rest her soul." Of course - Samantha knew a whole lot more of her grandmother than she was willing to share. Not only was Peggy Carter a liaison between the British and American governments, and a founder of SHIELD, but she was also an ally of Captain America. She remembered her grandmother telling her stories of the man when she and her father paid her visits in her retirement home. How he was the bravest most loyal man she had ever met, and how he was the first man she had ever learned to love. Samantha continued to visit her whenever she had the time... up until a few weeks back. She had received a phone call from the nursing home informing her of Peggy's death. It was peaceful, they said. She went in her sleep.

                                The gentleman suddenly offered her a seat, and she almost complied when she remembered that she still had another ten minutes or so of work. "Um.." she began reluctantly, quickly turning her head to look over her shoulder to the kitchen. Her coworkers were literally standing there near the counter, watching them with eager faces grinning like idiots, while whispering amongst themselves. Obviously they thought the guy was a looker because they started waving their hands motioning for her to stay in an instant. "I guess a few minutes wouldn't hurt." She returned his friendly grin and sat down next to him, fixing her skirt once she did so. Samantha let out a content sigh, glancing over at the man. "You were right about me needing to get off my feet, I've been stuck here for the last -" she checked her silver watch "- nine hours just running around nonstop." she half-complained, lifting her hands behind her head to relieve her brunette locks of the sloppy bun, letting the hair tie slide onto her wrist. It was nice - just sitting down and talking to someone, but a bit strange too. She really only cared to converse with the elderly folks in the restaurant, along with Nick, the bartender. Like Samantha, he was in his early twenties. They had a good relationship, got along quite well, and he was really the only guy who hadn't tried getting into her pants after only a day or two of knowing her. Which was nice.

                                One of the waitresses casually walked by as the male was taking a few bites of his sandwich and smirked slyly at Samantha, causing her to refrain a smile and roll her eyes. Her coworkers were always on her a**, trying to hook her up with different guys even though she clearly wasn't interested in any of it. She was just too busy. Refocusing her attention on the guy when he spoke, she turned slightly in her seat a little more. "Samantha. But everyone calls me Sam." She smiled with lips closed, dimples showing. Now that she could finally see his entire facial structure, she took in his features. First thing that captured her attention were his blue-grey eyes that had something of a softness in them. "So, Steve. Tell me about yourself." she said, leaning her jaw on her fist. "Hobbies, favourite novel, favourite film, anything and everything." She smiled, genuinely interested in hearing his answers.

Skilled Phantom

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❝ ι'м ιмpoѕѕιвle тo ғorgeт, вυт нard тo reмeмвer.❞

█ docтor вrιanne нυgнeѕ



                                  Either out of defensiveness or pride (or both), the man refused Brianne's offer to help him out of the car and proceeded to drag himself into a vertical position by himself. Not one to go against the wishes of someone who could probably kill her, even after a minor concussion, Brie moved towards the door of her house after locking her car, sliding her key into the lock and opening the door to her two-story home. She let the man follow her inside, noting that he was a lot taller than she had originally assumed, though she had been guessing his height while trying to drag him around to the passenger seat, so she was obviously distracted by trying not to drop him. The house was modern, furnished with new technology, but still had a rather relaxed feel. Hanging on the wall nearby was her doctorate in a frame, but otherwise there was nothing else to identify her by, no pictures of family or friends anywhere in the house. Moving through her home, she flicked on a few sets of lights for her guest, since she had no use for lights when her eyes could see easily in the dark. Since her guest was still around, she kept her sunglasses on for her own peace of mind.

                                  Feeling the eyes of the man following her around the house, Brie mentally sighed before glancing back at him. Surprisingly enough, he had taken off his shoes, but his socks weren't much cleaner; not that she minded the mess though. It was the thought that counted. She disappeared towards her bedroom, one of three in the house, heading into her closet in search of a box. She found one, which was labeled 'Brother', grabbing a set of clothes that included jeans, boxers, socks, and a nice shirt. Folding them up, she moved back into the living area, dropping the clothes on the couch before moving into the kitchen. She had a whole cabinet dedicated to medical supplies, including medicine for concussions. She was a doctor, after all, and she always wanted to be prepared. Grabbing a glass of water and two pills, she returned to Bucky and held out the medication. "Here, this will help with the pain." Once he had taken the medicine, she moved back to the couch, speaking as she went. "Oh, and there is no need to hide your arm while you're here. I've already seen it and I've guessed who you are. You don't need to worry; I work with SHIELD, and we're all not interested in harming you as long as you don't attack us." When she had initially checked the man for injuries, she had seen his arm. Nerves still ran through the metal, but there was no blood and no flesh, which was an instant tip-off to his identity, considering she had been researching his medical history with Banner lately.

                                  Picking up the pile of clothes from the couch, she held them out to him while she nodded with her head towards the hallway. "First door on the right is a bathroom if you want to wash up. These should fit you, since you're about how tall my brother used to be." It was obvious that Brie was tired, just from her voice, but she was trying to be as calm and hospitable as possible around the Winter Soldier. There was a possibility that he could endanger her life, and while she knew basic defense, she wouldn't stand a chance against a supersoldier. Once her arms were free of clothes, a ringing sound filled the house followed by an automated voice. Incoming call from: Dr. Bruce Banner Glancing up at her television and spotting his cell number, Brie responded out loud. "Answer the phone." As soon as she spoke those words, Banner's face popped up onto the TV. He could see Brie, but Bucky was not visible from where he was standing.

                                  "Hey there, Brie! Just wanted to check in and let you know that I ran the DNA scans for our project later this week. Thanks again for letting us use your own genes as a comparison. Any little thing helps." Flashing a small smile, Brie glanced up at the TV. "Thanks, Bruce. Looks like you're a lot less tired than I am." The other doctor laughed and nodded slightly. "Yeah, the other guy doesn't let me sleep much. Wait..why do you still have your sunglasses on? Don't you normally take them off at home?" Brie nodded slightly before gesturing to the lights around her, thinking up a quick excuse. "Yeah, but I think the alcohol made me a little too sensitive tonight. My night vision is acting up, so I'm going old-school." The doctor didn't seem completely convinced, but he nodded. "I'll let you rest then. Later!" His image disappeared from the screen and Brie let out a small sigh, rubbing her temples with her hand briefly before heading into the kitchen. Bucky's body betrayed his hunger, so she worked on fixing both of them something to eat. Pulling out the ingredients for chicken and rice, Brie pulled her unruly hair back into a messy bun before getting started.

                                  Cooking was easy when you had eyes like hers. Instead of taking the internal temperature of the chicken, she just had to look through it and see if it was done. Once she deemed that it was sufficiently cooked, she cut up the meat and distributed it evenly through the two bowls of flavored rice. She was a decent cook, but it wasn't her strong suit. Leaving one bowl on the living room table for her guest, she ate while she sat on the couch, letting out a small sigh as she tried to let her mind and body relax. It was too late at night for her to be able to reasonably think through many more crazy situations, and she felt that she was about to fall asleep as soon as her food was done. Still, she had to make sure that her guest was alright and did not intend to kill her. She still had her gun on her, hidden under her jacket, but she doubted it would do much good if he did decide to kill her. Hoping that he was friendlier than the last time he was in town, she let her mind wander aimlessly, eating as she thought.


Skilled Phantom

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ѕтeve rogerѕ
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                                Flashing an award-winning smile when she agreed to sit down and chat with, Steve hardly noticed that her co-workers were egging her on. He was still as clueless about women as he had been as a young man in the 1930's. Of course, not many women had given him a second glance back then, which didn't give him much practice on judging their intentions, but after working closely with the different women in SHIELD, he had grown used to conversations with them and was slightly better with his judgment of their emotions. Steve winced slightly when she mentioned how long she had been working, flashing a small, apologetic smile. "Ouch. Well, it goes to show that you've got stamina. I bet the high heels don't help at all. I've always admired how you women can handle balancing in them for such a long time." After her introduction, he raised his glass of soda slightly in her direction. "Lovely to meet you, Sam." Steve practically radiated gentlemanly manners and cheerfulness; it was just in his nature to be a friendly and loyal person, something that had been amplified after the serum had been injected into him. In the words of a particular German doctor, "Bad becomes worse, but good becomes great."

                                When he was questioned, Steve was surprised to see that she looked genuinely interested in his responses. Most of the time, when he was walking around as just Steve Rogers, he rarely interacted with other people. Most of his public interaction was done as Captain America, and everyone knew everything about him when he was the Captain. At least, they assumed that they knew everything about him. After finishing his sandwich and thinking for a few moments, he took a sip of his drink before speaking. "I expect you to answer after I'm done, so make sure you think of your own answers." Flashing a playful smirk, he continued after a slight pause. "Well, I'm normally working most of the time, but I do like to slow down and read every once in a while. I spend a lot of free time running with my friend, who is also ironically named Sam. My favorite novel...that would be a tie between Pride and Prejudice and the Lord of the Rings." Pausing, the Captain took another sip of his drink before continuing.

                                "I like the movie RED with Bruce Willis, and The Great Gatsby isn't too bad either, with DiCaprio. Born on the Fourth of July, so I think that makes me a Cancer from the zodiac. Favorite color is blue." Finishing off his drink, he gestured to Sam with one hand before folding his in front of his mouth like an evil villain, though it was obvious he was just playing around. "So, how about you?" Glancing at the clock, Steve realized he had been in the diner for well over an hour. It was strange, being able to just spend time with others and not having to worry about rushing back to work to hunt down a criminal or work on tactics with the infuriating Iron Man or elusive Hawkeye. The Avengers team was loyal to one another without question, but their personalities still clashed every once in a while.

                                The elderly couple had departed from the diner a few minutes earlier, spotting a handsome young man and woman chatting together at the bar. It brought a smile to their wrinkled faces, but they both doubted that the younger people even noticed that they had noticed. It was rare to see such compatibility between two people during this day and age, when marriages and relationships were rushed into and ultimately ended in disaster. They left after paying their bill, leaving Steve as the only customer and Sam as the only other occupant of the eating area. Steve hardly noticed the couple's departure, not seeing them leave but rather registering that they were no longer in the booth that they had been in when he arrived.


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тнe world нaѕ cнanged, and none oғ υѕ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx █ ✪ █ can g o в a c ĸ xxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxall we can do xxxx ιѕ oυr вeѕт
xxxxxxxx▪ ▪ ▪AND SOMETIMES THE BEST THAT WE CAN DO xxx ιѕ тo ѕтarт over
W H E N I woke up, they s a i d we won the war. T H E Y didn't say what we l o s t.

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

secret soldier

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                                Steve tipped his glass toward her, and when he spoke so kindly, Samantha's smile could only grow. "Likewise." Excluding her father, she had never met a man as polite as the one seated in front of her. And the only 'polite' men she had met in her life had ulterior motives up their sleeves - but Steve didn't strike her as that kind of guy. Granted, she hardly knew anything about him besides his name... but there was just something about him. Maybe it was his appearance. She had noticed his attire when she first brought him his meal - slacks, casual button up, and a nice jacket. He appeared a lot more 'grown up' than most men with their awkward teenage appeal. Samantha went on to question him regarding his interests and for a second, the guy looked surprised before eventually answering her. She leaned back in her seat, folding her arms casually under her chest with her legs stretched out and crossed in front of her. Samantha was a very petite woman - stood a short height of 5'2" but with the heels on, she was boosted up another five or so inches. She couldn't help but grin when he stated one of his favourite novels - Lord of the Rings.

                                "Looks like we've got a few things in common." She smiled playfully, taking a moment to think up her own answers with lips curved into a pensive angle. "Well, my favourite colour is also blue. Hobbies include running, going to the gym, reading, and cooping myself up in my apartment watching Netflix." She chuckled, figuring she probably sounded ultra lame with the last one. While most twenty-four year olds were out partying and living it up while they still could - she was a loner. Spent most of her days off in bed, wearing her pyjamas, all cozy under the blankets with her laptop along with a hot cup of tea. "Favourite novel would have to be Lord of the Rings, and~" she paused, going through a list of movies and scratching them off mentally, "my all time favourite films would have to be the Star Wars trilogy. I especially love Episode 3, Revenge of the Sith." Samantha was a huge nerd when it came to Star Wars. Or anything sci-fi, for that matter. From Star Wars and Star Trek to Lord of the Rings and Matrix. Hell, the woman had a few Star Wars collectibles mounted on her shelves. But she definitely was not about to tell Steve that. Grabbing the unused cup from the other end of the small table, Samantha took the water pitcher and poured herself a glass.

                                She smirked softly at Steve, lifting the cup to her luscious lips for sip. "I am so judging you for enjoying that movie RED, by the way. Bruce Willis is just... horrible. Same goes for Stallone and Schwarzenegger and all those old-timey actors. I mean, they were o-k back in the day, but now.... majorly overrated." If there was anything Samantha absolutely loved to do, it was sparking debates. Which was precisely what she was trying to do with her new friend. Her blue eyes held a mischievous sort of glint in them, a smirk playing on her lips. "Sammy!" A shrill voice suddenly yelled. The brunette turned halfway around in her seat. "Yes, Georgia?" she answered. "Could you c'mere a sec? I need your help with something." Samantha gave a short nod of her head in response before looking back at the man. "Be right back." She flashed a quick smile before standing and walking hastily into the kitchen, and only then did she become aware that she and Steve had been the only two occupying the diner. "What is it?" She lifted her eyebrows expectantly at the blonde haired waitress, who was standing by one of the large sinks scrubbing down dishes with a red rag. "So, what's his name?" Georgia asked with a playful waggle of her eyebrows.

                                "I thought you said you needed help with something." she deadpanned. "Just tell me his name and I'll leave you alone." Georgia said innocently, causing Samantha to sigh inwardly. "Steve. His name is Steve. And I'm keeping him waiting so, bye!" Before Georgia could question her any further, Sam pivoted and walked as quickly as she could into the seating area to rejoin Steve. "Sorry about that." She smiled sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Before she sat down, she noticed that his cup was empty and went to retrieve it instinctively. "Would you like a refill? They're free after 6."

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

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JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES
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ᴛнᴇ ᴡιɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅιᴇʀ

                The brunette soon disappeared into what appeared to be a bedroom at this angle; Bucky could see part of a bedframe, so he decided to stay put. He dug his hands into the pockets of his worn out jeans and let his feet pull him forward down the hallway, gaze eventually fixating on the framed doctorate. His dark brown eyes skimmed it until he spotted a name. Brianne Hughes, he read. What broke his attention were the soft padding of footsteps. The soldier turned his head and saw the lady roaming out of the bedroom before following behind her into the living area. She was carrying a pile of clothes and Bucky guessed they probably belonged to her husband, until he stole a quick glance at her ring finger while she was rummaging through the cabinets and saw no ring. He didn't realize his thoughts were wandering until Brianne turned around with a glass of water and pain killers. "Thank you." he said quietly as he took them from her grasp. Popping the pills into his mouth, Bucky took a gulp and only then did he realize how strong his thirst was. In a matter of seconds he had downed the entire glass, barely listening to the woman until she spoke of SHIELD.

                He remembered the last time he was in town vividly. Pierce had sent he and STRIKE on a mission - to ambush Captain America and kill anyone else who got in his way of doing so. Bucky was brainwashed for more than seventy years, Hydra had turned him into a killing machine - a monster. Looking back on everything now - or, rather, everything he could recall - all the lives he had endangered, it upset him. Bucky lowered his glass onto the counter and used his sleeve to wipe away the water now dribbling down his chin. His brows furrowed, mostly out of confusion. She was a doctor of SHIELD, she knew he was the Winter Soldier, and yet still, she had shown him hospitality. "I don't think I have a reason to." Before he could question the woman, he was gratefully handed the pile of clothes. Glancing in the direction he was pointed, Bucky turned and walked toward the hallway seconds before he heard, Incoming call from: Doctor Bruce Banner. The soldier came to a halt and backtracked a few steps, half his body hidden by the wall as he watched Brianne speak to the man on the television screen. He had been wondering about those sunglasses of hers, and why she hadn't taken them off when they got inside. Or why she was wearing them in the first place while they were driving, when the sun had nearly set.

                Night vision. He decided that he would question her about that after his shower. Once the call had ended, Bucky walked quickly and rounded a corner into the first door on the right. Stripping himself down and placing his weapons beside the sink, he kicked his clothes to the side and let the water run for a moment before stepping inside. Because he was still a tad paranoid, he was only in there for about ten minutes, Because Bucky was so paranoid he was only in there for maybe ten minutes, despite how much he wanted to stay under the warm spray of water. It was welcoming, and he felt almost safe under it, like it was a safety blanket. But he was, again, paranoid. So he stepped out and fetched the a white towel off the rack, ruffling it through his dripping locks and drying himself out quick. The pants were jeans, and they fit rather well with the belt. Without it they were a little to big. The shirt felt nice against his skin. It wasn't crusted with dirt or blood, and it smelled fresh. He hadn't even realized that he was in need of a clean pair of socks until he put the pair on. It felt much better than the dirty, crusty pair he had been wearing for weeks. Bucky faced the mirror, eyeing his metal arm - the mark of Hydra with it's red communism star. Just the arm alone was where the majority of his strength came from, but that didn't stop him from hating it.

                With his lips set into a grim line, Bucky decided to equip his weapons once more. He up his jacket afterwards and shrugged it on before dispersing into the living area where he saw Brianne sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of delicious smelling food. He walked forward and grabbed his prepared bowl and lowered himself onto the rather welcoming couch next to the woman. For a moment there, he honestly thought he would sink right to the floor. After playing with the food a bit and helping himself to a few big spoonfuls, he thought about something that had occurred to him earlier. He licked his lips and turned his head to gaze over at the woman, brows furrowed slightly. "You said you're with SHIELD. I thought they had been disbanded..." After the incident with the hellicarriers, and SHIELD's headquarters being laid to waste... had they not? He knew Hydra certainly hadn't. Hydra was a world-wide subversive organization that would never give up until they reached their goal - global domination.


BUT WHAT THE WORLD FAILS TO REALIZE
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xxxxxxxxx is that a v i l l i a n is just a v i c t i m
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxx whose s t o r y has not been t o l d.

Skilled Phantom

ghoullia

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ѕтeve rogerѕ
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                                While she spoke about her interests, Steve listened intently, making sure to remember everything that she said. He was surprised that the actually had some things in common, since he had a hard time finding people with similar interests and shared life experiences due to his rather abrupt disappearance and reappearance into the world. Skipping seventy years of human advancement was something that was really hard to catch up with, and he had been working hard to get caught up everything after escaping his imprisonment as a 'Capsicle'. Steve always carried a little notebook in his pocket that contained a list of things that he still needed to catch up on. When she mentioned something called Netflix, Steve tried his hardest not to appear confused. He had heard that word before, but he couldn't remember what it meant. The man didn't want to appear like an idiot in front of such a nice young woman.

                                He smiled slightly when she mentioned Star Wars. Speaking of catching up on what he had missed, he had just finished watching all of the Star Wars movies, including the new additions to the series. Now he was moving onto Star Trek, which was apparently not related to Star Wars despite their similar names. He had made a fool of himself for suggesting such a thing when speaking when the other Avengers, something he still hadn't completely lived down just yet. "Star Wars is pretty awesome. I think I like Qui Gon Jinn the best, the guy from the Phantom Menace." Steve could speak in confidence about the characters, since he just watched the movies about a week ago.

                                Steve rolled his eyes slightly while she judged him for liking the movie RED. He had been told time and time again by Sam, Tony, and Natasha that his tastes were very old-fashioned, along with his old-fashioned ideals and manners, so it was no surprise that someone from this century would point it out as well. He had grown to like movies where the characters reminded him of the century he had been born into, which included the characters of RED. Letting out a good natured laugh, Steve flashed her a grin. "Yeah, I've been told that I like old-timey things a lot, especially by my friends." When she was called away by one of her co-workers, Steve took a sip of his drink before pulling out his phone to quickly text Sam, who was currently on his way home from a mission over in Europe. What is 'Netflix'? I can't remember. Sending the message, he waited for his response. A moment later, his phone buzzed and he saw his friend's reply. It's a way to watch movies and TV that you don't already own. I'll hook you up with it when I get back. Nodding in understanding when he read the message, he glanced up when Sam returned, flashing another charming smile.

                                "It's alright." When she spoke of a refill, he glanced down and just realized that his glass was empty. He had been so engrossed in their conversation that he didn't notice. Steve shook his head a bit at her question. "No, it's alright. I should probably be heading home soon anyways." Running a hand through his hair briefly, and flashing a rather shy, adorable smile, he glanced towards Sam again. "Uhm...if you get off work soon, do you want me to walk you home? That is, if you don't plan on driving." Steve felt as if he wanted to get to know Sam more, so he tried his best not to be as awkward as he had been around women before he was affected by the serum.



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тнe world нaѕ cнanged, and none oғ υѕ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx █ ✪ █ can g o в a c ĸ xxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxall we can do xxxx ιѕ oυr вeѕт
xxxxxxxx▪ ▪ ▪AND SOMETIMES THE BEST THAT WE CAN DO xxx ιѕ тo ѕтarт over
W H E N I woke up, they s a i d we won the war. T H E Y didn't say what we l o s t.

Skilled Phantom

User Image

❝ ι'м ιмpoѕѕιвle тo ғorgeт, вυт нard тo reмeмвer.❞

█ docтor вrιanne нυgнeѕ



                                  Glancing briefly in Bucky's direction when he returned from the bathroom, the young woman felt her eyes widen slightly when she saw him cleaned up. He was rather easy on the eyes when he wasn't caked in blood and dirt, even though he did have a serious complexion along with a metal arm that reminded her of how dangerous he could be if he was forced. She could not imagine how he felt about his past, since she could hardly relate. How must it be, to lose everything and have someone play with your memories to where you can't remember who you are? Her childhood had been far from pleasant, but it shrank in comparison to his own troubles. Scooting over on the couch to give him room to sit down comfortably, Brie finished her meal before turning her attention to her guest as he questioned her. The question was valid, considering that he didn't know much about the inner workings of SHIELD and Fury's mind.

                                  "We are no longer a government organization, but we still exist. Tony Stark and his company funds all of our ventures and we use his tower as our base." At first, Brie didn't know what she should say to Bucky, since he used to be with Hyrda, but from what she had learned, he wasn't willingly serving them. There was a possibility that he could join the Avengers, so she figured she could say a little more about what they were doing. "Everyone in the Avengers Initiative has been working to hunt down Hydra, especially Steve, Clint, and Natasha. Tony, Banner, and myself are working on new inventions and keeping everyone in top condition. Also, Fury and Maria Hill have been recruiting new agents and training ones already in the organization." A small sigh left her as she thought about how small SHIELD had become. "We lost a lot of good people, and some of the people who survived are still recovering. Fury has been having some of us train to become agents, myself included. It's hard to kill when you've been trained to heal." Brie excelled in her weapons training with Natasha, but she was still uncomfortable causing harm to others. Banner had been in the same boat when he transformed into the Hulk, so he was helping her with the transition.

                                  Ever since Brie was a child, she had been treated as an outsider because of her condition. She did not know how to control her vision when she was little, so she would often have moments where she could see through people or otherwise 'freak out' in public. Now, as an adult, she had control over her vision and was now accepted by the people she considered her friends. Brie loved the Avengers like the family that she never had. Her parents had died when she was little and her brother had been killed in the attack on SHIELD headquarters. He had been a technological advisor during the attack and had been crushed under falling debris. She missed him dearly, since he had practically raised her, but she knew that lingering on such sad memories would affect her in a way that would be detrimental to her work, which was what was important now. Yawning, Brie rubbed her eyes with a hand, removing her sunglasses before she really thought about it. The color of her eyes was constantly changing, normally settling on a dark brown or dark green whenever she wasn't using her powers. She felt her body growing more and more tired by the second, the weight of the day catching up with her.

                                  Glancing towards Bucky, she nodded in the direction of the hallway. "There is a guest room right next to the master bedroom whenever you want to get some sleep." Brie was glad that she didn't have work in the morning, since it was the weekend. If she had to work, she probably would've taken a day off. The Avengers, especially Tony, definitely knew how to party hard.

theycallmematt97's Girlfriend

Interstellar Streaker

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                        "Oh, alright." Returning his rather charming smile with a small one of her own, Sam collected his cup along with hers anyway, figuring it would be best to tidy up the mess while she was still standing. Truth be told, she wanted nothing more than to continue talking with Steve. He seemed like such a kind man and they were already getting along so well. Sam placed the cups inside one another and was about to turn when Steve spoke up again, this time offering to walk her home. Just when she thought he couldn't get any sweeter. Every day - unless she and Nick worked the same hours and he gave her a ride home - Samantha would walk home by herself. It wasn't a big deal, although she did have a tendency to freak herself out when it was late at night. Sam blamed herself; she watched more horror movies than she'd care to admit. And it wasn't like the city wasn't safe with America's poster for patriotism, Captain America, hanging around. His name had made headlines two years ago when he was defrosted and, to everyone's shock, still very much alive. Everyone including Sam was absolutely ecstatic. First thing she did was inform her grandmother. Unfortunately, in Peggy's once amnesiac state, the news didn't last very long.

                        Her eyebrows lifted for a short second in surprise while she contemplated the offer. "Um.. that's an awfully nice gesture, Steve, but my building is just a couple blocks up the road." She smiled with lips closed, lightly tugging her skirt down a little more on her legs out of habit. And then something hit her. There was an exceptionally attractive kind-hearted man offering an arm home and she was declining like an idiot. Something she knew she would regret doing the next day. Sam took a small, preparatory breath. "But I guess some company wouldn't hurt." She smiled, this time more confidently. "Just let me collect my things and we'll be on our way." she added with a short nod before turning around and disappearing into the kitchen. She tossed the cups into the sink filled with dirty dishes and headed to the back area where her belongings were kept in a small locker - her handbag, inside of it her wallet, and a change of pants along with a pair of shoes, and her coat. Hastily changing into a pair of faded blue skinny jeans, Samantha slipped on her black Toms and stuffed her skirt and heels into her handbag. She grabbed the strap and hoisted it over her shoulder, tousling a hand through her wavy hair on the way out.

                        After saying her goodnight's to her co-workers, Sam lightly swung open the doors that lead to the seating area. She felt a great deal more comfortable now that she was out of the provocative heels and skirt and into her casual day-to-day attire. Sam couldn't understand how some women just wore heels for the hell of it. All they succeeded in doing was making Sam's feet sore and wish she had a personal foot masseuse.

                        Sam headed over toward Steve and stopped in front of him. "You ready?" She smiled cheerily, slipping her hands into the pockets of her army green coat. Taking a second to notice the males full height, she blinked taken aback before giving him a subtle once over. He was most definitely taller than she had anticipated and very muscular. Samantha was accustomed to seeing powerful looking men at the gym, but not once had she ever seen a guy as well-proportioned as Steve. It was quite a nice sight. Tipping her head up slightly to meet his gaze, Sam quirked her eyebrows while she awaited his response and smiled.

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