#allrage

He hadn’t expected to find the other in the library but something had told him to search there first when he hadn’t answered his door.  “ So were you actually sick? ”  he asked, finger tips tapping against one of the chairs that sat tucked into the table.  “ Or were you just trying to avoid me? ”  He smiled half heartedly, worried that it might have been the case. 

                     houston had always thought he understood patients when they got snippy and irritated when they had been in hospital for a while. now he REALLY understood them. because he was the patient, and he'd been non-stop monitored going on two weeks now. somehow he'd managed to usher everyone wearing a set of scrubs and white coat out of his room ( never felt like his, it was so naked and sterile, but it was where they kept him for treatment. ) he leaned on the closed doors, forehead resting against the small pane of glass.

                    ❝  there's just no polite way to say 'leave me alone' is there?  ❞ it was supposed to be some kind of BIG DAY. after all this time of keeping everything under wraps ( "under wraps" . . . he really was under wraps. inhumans were too new, too strange, they had to be kept secret. he had to be secret. ) finally the gauze and medical tape and everything keeping his new APPENDAGES tightly in place was to be cut away. they didn't want him extending those wings any time before, until they were sure that doing so wouldn't stress the tissue that had so painstakingly been stitched back together.

             PITCH BLACK. dark and rough like gravel on his skin. that's what his world became in a matter of seconds ------rubble? some kind of collapse? it wouldn't be the first time he wound up buried under part of a building. it's immediately where his mind goes, the first jump despite all his surroundings before, and then ---- BRUCE. normally he'd stay put, calm down, gather his breath and THINK, but bruce had been with him. he panicked. PUSHING against his confines until he felt a shift, heard a CRACKING, felt pain wrack his body. everything felt wrong, this was---

             his body fell but he couldn't catch himself, expecting to hit the ground instead he was braced against something --- someone. sharp inhale, hands numbly scrambling for something to secure in their fists. his senses were overwhelmed, his entire body hurt, the taste of copper filled his mouth. somewhere in the back of his mind, like instinct he didn't know of, told him he'd made a mistake. he should have stayed put; he broke too early. ❝  bruce what----what happened? is anyone---   ❞. is anyone hurt? the words repeated in his mind over and over but a static blanket of pain blocked everything else out.

pacific rim. / @allrage

                  it stops her, right at his doorway. they get along. there’s something she can understand within him ––––––– he enjoys the fight, attention or no. she knows this hulk would be fine to do the very same thing without an adoring crowd. and every time she watches a fight, she feels too aware. it makes her dig deeper in her cups than the usual constant stream of drinking she uses to get through the day. watching him fight awakens the blood within her that sings, that yearns, and worst of all ? mourns. it hurts, it’s heavy, she’s just too too aware, but if she bites her cheek or lip enough the taste of rust abates the call.

                  she considers asking him if it feels something like that. she considers showing him dragonfang, of telling him of asgard. she considers just continuing like she didn’t hear him and leaving. instead of all that, she turns back around towards him and smiles. valkyrie pretends to not see the vulnerability upon his large face. it does not do well to dwell upon the fact that he can feel ––––––––––– it reminds her that she can as well.

i. every time.   ii. colorful shirts run in the family.   iii. @drbbanner pick one  iv. got us matching pins. #thisshouldntbeapoliticalstatemement   v. #sorry   vi. seeing hong kong ft. @drbbanner 

it’s not whom he expected to see --- perhaps he should’ve, though, considering the circumstances. the hulk, ‘the other guy’, doesn’t terrify him like he does most people but dylan can’t claim to understand it completely. he lifts his arms just in case, showing empty hands for what it’s worth: magician showing empty palms guarantees almost nothing, but at least hulk can see he doesn’t have his gun with him, if that’s a concern.  “ hi, ”  voice perfectly calm, only slightly louder than usually as an automatic response to the enormous height different, he speaks while walking towards the green guy,   “ good to SEE ya. ”

          ❛   man,   you gotta replace your pants every time you get real mad.   sucks to suck.   ———   bet the world’s seen a whole lotta you they ain’t wantin’ to see.   ❜

       ❝    can i touch the green thing ? —herb, or whatever it’s called , right ?      ❞