#atrxvido

          If looks could kill--- ( don’t engage ). Beck’s fist clenches down by his side, his gaze boring into the lawyer across the room - a few months passed since the two of them had last... interacted, the dexterity of the developer’s right wrist still a little weakened as a direct result. 

reblogged from here

“Is that what your philosophy is for swinging around town? Explains so much.”

No escaping when I start Once I'm in I own your heart There's no way you'll ring the alarm So hold on until it's over

Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do? Cause it's about to get rough for you I'm here for your entertainment          - For Your Entertainment, Adam Lambert

     "An Avenger is dead. I’m lead to believe he recognized an escaped convict on the street, tried to pursue her without setting off one of her more violent personalities. Witnesses indicate she led him to a supposedly abandoned warehouse in Brownsville. That warehouse blew up. All of this was reported in the papers, so I doubt I’m telling you anything that you don’t know. You know that the woman in this story was Mary Walker. The same Mary Walker you had an encounter with this past Christmas. She was in with The Hand, wasn’t she? They’re the ones who broke her out. That warehouse was a base... a stockpile, by all indications. Who are they? what’s their endgame?”

A terrible spy, wasn’t he? Just... straight up asking for the information he wanted. Hopefully he’d fare slightly better as a ninja. Ninjas were supposed to be just as stealthy, though... they were... feudal Japanese spies. Hm. He was a skilled swordsman, but he was not Japanese. Maybe this whole thing was disrespectful, he didn’t want to appropriate...

Jessica regretted taking the stairs up to Matt’s apartment. The climb didn’t sound so bad on paper, but as the investigator hauled herself up each flight of stairs, she wished she’d just waited for the elevator. Or flown up, but that was less reliable these days- as shit as Jess was at flying normally, the weight of the baby was throwing off her groove considerably.

It was weird, being invited to Murdock’s place.  It felt a little “behind the curtain”. What was she expecting? Ceramic crosses on the wall? Tasteless decor? How bad could a blind Catholic’s living space be? And just why did he want her over?  Hopefully it wasn’t any more news about Kilgrave or the ninjas or the bargain they’d made to get her out of jail time.

Could it really have just been for a visit?

Unremarkable, really, how everything in this shithole of a city paled to the thought that his jewel was out there somewhere, no doubt cavorting with that useless unbreakable man who had stolen Jessica from him in the first place.  Kilgrave could only hope that their little stunt in Harlem had been enough to put a dent in Luke Cage’s invincible facade- still, the Purple Man hated the feeling of a chance denied.  No one said no to Kilgrave, not ever.

Kilgrave wasn’t a betting man, unless he knew exactly how to pull the odds in his favor.  Still, he’d chosen not to let another chance pass him by- when that sodding schizophrenic offered him an opportunity to become even more powerful, such that not even Jessica Jones could resist him any longer, well, he couldn’t sit idly by.

Mary had promised him pick of the icons they would retrieve, and while she herself had psychic abilities they were nothing compared to the ease with which Kilgrave could bend even the strongest of wills to his whims.  All weak minds except the one he wanted most.  And so he took her deal with a certain degree of patience- a small sacrifice now would mean no one ever denying him again, not with all the strength in the world.

[ LOCATION: VAULT 13, FEDERAL RESERVE BANK ]

          The media was always so quick to glamorise cat burglars but Quentin can vouch that there’s absolutely nothing sexy about a balaclava - he can’t fucking breathe regardless of how spacious the room is with the added light of glistening bars of gold, a gloved hand tugging the cloying material up over his chin to gulp down a few deepened breaths. The bullions aren’t his point of interest, a spherical device propped atop of the stack, emitting a sophisticated projection that encompasses the room - as far as anyone passing by the vault or reviewing security footage was concerned, there was nothing untoward taking place. A laptop is connected into a terminal adjoined to a series of secure safe deposit boxes, several factors of authentication in place - the kind of security that could only be afforded by this country’s richest and most powerful, cowards who had reputations to lose.

                    Keeping an eye on a timer onscreen as fingertips furiously implement a decryption algorithm, Beck knows that this opportunity is limited and he has to be quick, seeking information from one of the boxes in particular neatly set into an adjacent wall. It belongs to an old colleague who went on to form his own company as a direct competitor to Stark, owing him more than his fair share of favours for the help the engineer had provided. There’s a loud click, steadfast footsteps approaching the opened container to prise open the door to retrieve a secure external drive with a very familiar serial number. “Bingo.” Smugly tucking the device into his pocket, Quentin notices another item rattling around inside, an engraved wedding ring from the ex-colleague’s first marriage. Curiosity sees the developer slip it over his finger, the fit a little loose but he gives a content hum, pocketing it too.

It had been a while since those whirlwind evenings in December with Matt Murdock- the Christmas party, the ninja warehouse bust.  Not that Jessica was exactly concerned with maintaining healthy communication between herself and her lawyer, with things going the way they were, it was probably best to keep track of her allies and give them updates.  And Matt had seemed to agree, if not just to check in on Jessica’s physical wellbeing.