#ag3ntv

Upon finding something comparable to a stable base, a sharp exhale exits through his nose, more grit than breath as the room appeared to tilt again; at least, from his perspective. Sent flailing, an arm shoots outwards, seeking support that's found in the offering of a black limb as he lets the sensation wash over him.

He'd gotten his bell rung before, taken hits to the noggin that were shrugged off fairly quickly. But something about the particular, magically enhanced punch that had made contact with his skull had sent his equilibrium into disarray. So much that, for once, he wasn't instantly repellent to a stranger's touch. "Lucky me then." Voice roughened by the amount of dust inhaled, with her support, he fought to correct the endless sway in his stance, stability returning in precious increments, which allowed his mind to focus on other matters.

Such as his mask, and the broached idea of dispelling it. Stewing on thethought for a moment, all that seemed to happen was a contraction of the red markings outlining his eyes, when all at once, like a wave breaking upon the shore, navy-blue luminescence glowed a bright white, before then dissolving. Hardlight particles vanished on command, leaving in its place a drawn but alert face, marred significantly by a long gash that stretched across his temple, from being struck.

"Woah. This is weird." Flash said, examining the other Agent Venom, his own suit an inverse of theirs. "Andi told me about this. Eddie, too. Different universe, yeah? I'm Flash."

the secret history. | @ag3ntv

barnes' experience with symbiotes are limited. the very thought of them induce lurid imagery--as if some eclectic meeting of winter soldier memory and obtained information since barnes' ejection back into the real world, a soldering done in blood with his mince meat brain and metal traps--like natasha's sharpened teeth, clamping around the upper knob of his spine. it was a sensation he could not explain.

he gets the idea anne may not be like silver, or the venom he knew, but it didn't provide bucky too much comfort. at least, nothing more provoking than his typical quiet, cold reservation. and with the nature of these symbiotes being so--amorphous--barnes wasn't sure where she ended and the alien began, what thoughts were her own. he cannot imagine coming away from hosting one of things without being irrevocably changed.

the idea of giving his body to something, letting it hitch a ride, made his skin itch.

it felt like maybe? the third time since his birthday she's said something like that. with that same look on her face. like this moment was going too soon. he'd never hid much from her. sure maybe when he accidentally broken a few picture frames he'd lied about it. for 5 minutes before tearfully apologising. but the big stuff? no. never. " I know, mom. "

he stared back down at the homework on the table. he had been trying to get used to doing his own homework. not that anyone has told him to stop asking for help. he just didn't think he needed it anymore... he had to start figuring things out for himself eventually. but there were a few things he.. struggled with.

he knew she wasn't going to react badly. they'd talked about it before, when he was younger and confused why is uncle peter was holding hands with another man? they'd read books and watched tv shows together. what he was more worried about was picking a name. he didn't hate his name but. he didn't like it for him. opening his journal he'd started keeping a while back. and placing down a messy disorganised list of boy names

" ... can you help me pick a new name "

The king shook his head. "No. Not unless I deem it completely necessary. You tell me then, woman. Is it completely necessary?"

"Is it egotistical to look at a legacy one might be responsible for like a grandmother at the Thanksgiving table? Just be like 'all of this because of me' sorta vibe?" He looked at Flash, the once high school rival now fellow... something, whichever Thompson would fancy being labeled. Though of course, as they're both seemingly eons from the linoleum halls of their youth, labels don't do either of them in the here and now any service. One might say the Agent Venom is a better hero than his Spider-predecessor, but that one in particular might be a certain mustache'd man clenching his teeth on his last cigar before a big news spread affords him a new one.