illuminaughty

Steve knew it was a risk returning to the United States, even temporarily. He was more likely to be recognized here than anywhere else in the world, so he’d taken what minimal steps to disguise himself that he could–glasses, ball cap pulled low, and a shapeless coat that covered up his physique to some extent, although it did nothing to make him look smaller.

His plan was to use a recently purchased burner phone to contact a former SHIELD agent, whom he’d worked with closely in the past, to find out the state of the situation with the Accords, whether they were closing in on anyone, and who might be secretly imprisoned in the Raft at this point and need rescue.

He didn’t want to speak too long over any phone, so he’d come to the man’s suburb to arrange a meeting–hopefully one that was less likely to be anticipated than a meeting with Sharon would be.

Now he had an hour to kill until the agent would be free to speak with him, and eating a meal would be less conspicuous than loitering in a affluent neighborhood for that long.

Pushing open the door to the carefully ‘retro’ diner, he started for a booth near the back when he was greeted unexpectedly by a dark haired young man whom he’d never seen before.

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

"I don't think I do, sir."

Harley had to take only a glimpse at the guy to know who he was. The other people in the diner were probably too busy minding their own business to notice, but someone who spent as much time with Bucky as he did was bound to know who Steve Rogers was even from a mile away. Or with an ugly ballcap. His fingers tutted along the table excitedly. The recently acquired expertise on this whole spy stuff told him that whatever Captain America had to do in Scarsdale wasn't exactly public. Plus Harley wasn't living in a cave. The boy knew about the Sokovia delas and all that stuff which made it pretty annoying to walk down the streets if you have powers.

He got up from the seat putting on an act so that nobody would get suspicious, and also thinking of a plan that wouldn't make Captain America flee in an instant. The best he could think of in such short notice was namedropping Bucky to see if he could at least be bothered to sit at the table. "I think Mr. Barnes didn't send a picture with my resume, did he? He speaks very highly of you!" Harley then reached out to the man with a warm smile and a handshake. Hopefully he wasn't too discreet with the reference, or not too out there. Captain America bailing out would suck, but Captain America throat punching him for information on Bucky would ALSO suck. Not the best sensation, being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Me: 

NAME :  charles “harley” durant AGE :  18 years old SPECIES :  supposedly human GENDER :  cis male ORIENTATION :  homosexual/romantic PROFESSION :  high-schooler turned spy, all around conman.

[ PHYSICAL ASPECTS ]

BODY TYPE :  gangly . HAIR :  black EYES :  brown SKIN :  pale, but in a ‘never go out in the sun’ way HEIGHT :  5′8″

[ FAMILY ]

FAMILY :  none SIBLINGS :  none PARENTS :   Richard Foster ( adoptive father, deceased )   //   Nico Durant   ( adoptive father,deceased )   CHILDREN :  no ANY PETS? :   yes  [  ]   no  [ x ]

[ LIKES ]

COLORS :  neon shades of green, yellow and orange. Black. SMELLS :  electronics. gasoline. that weird smell of the air when you’re not on the city. the ocean. FOOD :   velvet cake. beignets. profiteroles. DRINKS :  soda. schnapps. tequila. corona beer. ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES? :   yes  [ x ]   ||   rarely   [  ]   ||    no  [  ] FAVORITES :   travel. new possessions. cars. fashion clothes. movies. cats. weed. the beach. money. attractive people.

[OTHER DETAILS ]

Turns out his powers got a lot better. And he also got a lot better himself. He proudly went from 'fucking awfully shameful' to 'sorta decent' in combat. That in itself deserved a round of applause, if it only didn't turn him in such a different person. Talking like this, it seems that this is the post-credits, where everything is saved and the world is fine for now, but Harley sees the future. He knows this is barely the beggining of the first act. That line of thought is precisely what brought him to Scarsdale, New York. He had a vision about a certain diner in town. Putting it out like that sounded silly, but he's never been wrong before, and wasn't about to start now.

Fate dictated that he had to be at the diner at exactly 8:46AM for something which he didn't yet know what it was. In his vision he's sipping a coffe and then the bell rings, announcing that someone's coming in. That must be someone important, he thought, given that it was a vision so reocurring that it started messing with his daily life. When the waitress brought him a cup of coffe, the bell rang and he looked up to the door, to see what was that all about.

NAME: Charles Durant (but literally no one calls him Charles) NICKNAME(S): Harley, Charlie, Annoying little fuck AGE: 18 years old.

SPECIES: Assumed to be human.

personal

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil MBTI: ENFP Hogwarts House: Slytherin RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Fate as an omnipresent force SINS: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / kindness / humility / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Save the world, get into college, get a boyfriend. LANGUAGES KNOWN: English, Spanish. SECRETS: He has no secrets, and honestly doesn’t care about things like privacy most of the time. QUIRKS: Silver-Tongued. Harley can often get away from any kind of situation by simply talking. He is also extremely non-threatening as far as looks go. SAVVIES: Excellent liar and good at social engineering. Approximate knowledge of many subjects. Understands cars enough to be able to steal, fix and drive most models with ease. Near-genius level intellect. According to himself, the “near” is probably an understatement from his teachers.

physical

BUILD: slender / average / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / baby fat / pudgy / obese / heavyset / pear-shaped / beer belly / other.  HEIGHT: 5′5  SCARS / BIRTHMARKS:  None ABILITIES / POWERS:  Clairvoyance and occasional psychometry.

RESTRICTIONS: Has no control whatsoever of his powers. Will blankly stare into nothingness no matter what is going on around him when he’s having a vision. May have seizures at times..

favorites

FOOD:  Vegan. DRINK: coffee, beer PIZZA TOPPING: chocolate and pineapple

MUSIC GENRE: Trap, electronic, disco. The louder the better.

BOOK GENRE: YA novels MOVIE GENRE: Horror, Rom-Com SEASON: Winter CURSE WORD: “Ahh, for fuck’s sakes”, “Goddammit!”, “Bitch.”, “Asshole.” SCENT: Brand new objects. So, plastic and circuitry.

fun stuff

Well, this is better than nothing. Harley knew he was by a creek, at least. A creek that he was tempted to call shit's creek in order to better reflect his current situation. Firstly, where the hell was he? One minute he's out there with... Ok, he doesn't remember with whom as well. Maybe there are no positives to this situation at all.

Of course, this wouldn't suck so hard if he didn't have literally the most useless superpower in the world, he thought angrily. What would he do? Keep touching sticks and stones and hope to get glimpses of these woods' past? Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea at all. It surely beats waiting around for starvation or some mosquito to kill him. And so touching and rubbing the ground and plants he didn't even notice the other approaching.

@buckybarnesthewintersoldier

Saving the world sucks. But you know what sucks even harder? Having to do it in secret, with the help of an assassin. Why couldn't his visions draw him to the avengers themselves, Harley thought. That would be a lot more fun and practical. Instead he was stuck with the guy who nearly killed Captain America, acting like some sort of sidekick.

Well, the definitions of what a sidekick do are pretty broad. Stealing a car was totally ok for the right reasons, is what the kid said to himself as some rich guy entered Starbucks. He drove one of those keyless cars that can 'sense' when the owner is close enough. Shame these were pretty easy to snatch if you have a pair of cellphones, a couple persons and not enough ethics between the two of them.

Harley got up from his table and stood right next to the car guy, like an invader of personal space, while asking some random question about gluten in his coffee. Just stalling enough for his phone to copy the key signal from that dude and then transmit it. Once the phone vibrated, he dropped whatever question he was posing and almost jolted to the car he and the Winter Soldier just snatched. A blue Range Rover. Not exactly what he was expecting, but good enough to get to Louisiana.

                               "Everything is energy held briefly in shape. Where this energy flows is called destiny."