#agilistic

                                                            & on cue, things took a dramatic turn for the worse.

he vaults over the back of one man, momentum moving from kneecap to crook of the chin. balance regained, he wheels about, striking the blade of his palm into another’s forehead. 

                                                 “ we need to - ” 

he sweeps a leg out, clutching a man by kevlar and crashing him into the floor. hard. danny’s breath sounds like it’s doing a number on him.

Wanda was always up to talk about her brother, that was the one thing you could count on. The one thing you could use to distract her from an injury, a failure, or just a bad sort of day;

“Hey, tell me a story about Pietro.” You would say and she’d be off, telling you the best one she could think of. 

That was one of the things Peter liked best about her, her loyalty to her family, it was a good reminder that he wasn’t the only one on the team who had a family out there, someone who they missed and missed them in return. And in return Peter would spin his own tales about Aunt May and her various antics.

Peter never expected to meet the aforementioned Pietro Maximoff, or maybe if he did it would be in passing; 

“This is my brother.”

“Oh good, nice to meet you, gotta go, there’s a creepy crawly tearing up main street, gotta go save Queens.” -Y’know that sorta thing.

Guess he wasn’t too far off, there had indeed been a big bad and ugly taking a bite out of Queens when Peter Parker, dressed heroically in spandex (it wasn’t spandex Stark had assured him, sure felt like spandex to him.) - had come onto the scene and had promptly gotten his ass throughly whooped. He wasn’t even quite sure what happened, it was like suddenly there was a building on top of him and he was made aware of several broken ribs, perhaps with his luck a punctured lung and a agonizingly snapped femur. Yippee. There had been a flash of blue light not too long ago, Peter had no idea where that came from, and in his limited and terrifyingly blurry vision he could see a shock of something white. Looked like a person....

“....help...”

she  hears  him  before she sees him between the clinks  &  clanks of bottles shifting in her hands.  discard  one            there’s nothing left at the bottom, no more  kiss  of amber to make the night easier to get through          &  dig for another.  she’s a creature of routine the way she rummages systematically through drawers  &  hiding places in her apartment, the way she  sniffs  out the empties scattered through her rooms like tin soldiers.  her shoulders break, an uneven shelf to splice the illusion.  

❛  you’d be a lot better off if you’d learn to fucking  knock  first.  or call.  don’t they have phones where you’re from?   ❜  spits with bristled ire to where she can feel him lingering.  ❛              scram.  shoo.  whatever the hell it takes to get you to stop coming by here like i’m looking for help.  ❜  flippancy spins a slim wrist in the air while the other dangles at her side with a fresh unopened prize of whiskey.