The morning light was settling over New York, perfectly. Letting in the warm morning rays grace the bitter cold city, it's been oddly cold for this time of year
But finally. The warm was welcoming them.
April closed the door to the beautiful brick townhouse. She had successfully dropped off the little ones. Nadia will be picked up from school by her mother later on.
Her pink Mary Jane's clicked as she hops down those steps in front of the house. She eyes Edward softly.
"Okay. Kids are good. Mama will get Nadia later when she's out from school. We can take as long as we want."
April tilts her head a bit. Space puffs swaying as she hums. "So, coffee and a bite?"
She had picked a pink frilly skirt swaying. She picked pastel blue for bows and a baby blue halter top. Very much cotton candy aesthetic. April offers her hand to him. "Ready?"
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*(Knock. Knock. Knock. Then a muffled voice through the door)*
Evil Pomni, I'm respecting your privacy by knocking, but asserting my authority as Ringmaster by coming in anyway.
*Caine gently opens the door, seeing Evil Pomni’s destroyed room, then the jester herself just laying in her bed* Oh my, Paine wasn’t lying when he said you made a mess. Let me help! *(Snap. Everything in the room suddenly returns to their original state, the room cleans itself up.)* There we go. A better room can influence a better self.
Oh, right! Now to business. *Caine floats down onto her bed, sitting down next to her, and places a hand on her shoulder. When he speaks he actually sounds calm for once, almost comforting. Almost.* How are you holding up, my dazzling daylily?.. I’ve found out about the unfortunate news that happened to our frog friend, I’ve come to believe that no one deserves to be alone after such an event. So, I thought I could provide you some company and possibly some comfort.
"Okay, Kate. Just breathe. It's only your first real date with Yelena. It's fine, you're fine. Everything's fine. Tonight's gonna be fun.." Kate muttered quietly to herself while rocking back and forth on her heels.
Her hands anxiously fidgeted in her trouser pants pockets as she glanced down both sides of the sidewalk, then pulled her one hand out to glance at her wrist watch before shoving it back into her pants pocket.
'She's not late, you're just a weirdo who got here way too early..' Kate thought to herself, letting out a long sigh. She really needed to calm down. Yelena was gonna be here soon, and she didn't want her seeing her acting so lame.
---------
@lady-hawk-eye
Yelena rushed up to her moments later. "Sorry I'm late, apparently it's a crime for a girl to get dressed up and go out. I swear everyone suddenly wants to know my business--" she said, rolling her eyes.
She had definitely dressed up more than usual for this, though. It felt appropriate. And Kate had said she wanted an excuse to see Yelena dressed up. She hadn't done something like this that wasn't for an assignment in...ever. It was nice. She got to wear something she actually liked and be with someone she cared about.
“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.”
August 31st 2013
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Austria
Liliya looked out the frosted over window of the hostel. Her socked feet were comforted by the heavy weight of Diva at her feet. The German Shepard as silent as the foot of powdery snow outside and the towering mountains beyond the still iced-over lake. Steam rolled off her hot chocolate in front of her.
Her fingers held open a russian copy of Crime and Punishment. The pages edges were wrinkled after years of being thumbed through. If someone had lived in those pages, like Liliya had lived through them, they would have been surrounded by cinnamon, salt, and the deep seated comfort of repetition.
If she was younger Liliya would have been happy to burst out into the mountains with open arms. But the weight of the years laid heavy on her overburdened shoulders and she was happy to just sit and watch while she rested.
A light breeze drifted past the window. An aptly named Snowfinch dived into the snow under the window sil and out of sight. The clouds drifted lazily above the pine forest below. A winding path made its way around the lake and into the woods.
Inside a few lingering enjoyers of the morning tarried in their seats. Their heads nodding over warm cups of coffee and tea accompanied by plates of heaping eggs and sausages. Their voices, deepened by morning sleepiness hummed just over the light faded sound of the scratched Elton John record in the background.
Diva’s head perked up as the soft thud of boots descended the worn wooden stairs. He heard it just before Liliya did, her ears perked up infinitesimally at the minuscule noise.
Ravonna's arm and leg were definitely not completely recuperated but she could land a punch and kick if necessary. she definitely wasn't limping anymore.
she drew up the map of different floors of the TVA from memory including all rooms and vents. the papers all spread across the dining table in pencil and marker. spending eternity in a place, you remember every detail.
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The room's been cleared out for the evening, repurposed for something a little more human. There's a table with a store-bought cake (frosting cracked slightly from the elevator ride), a handful of paper plates, and a crooked banner someone printed last minute: “Happy Birthday, John.”
Bucky stands near the edge of the room, still in his black jacket, sleeves pushed up. He's alone for now, running a hand through his hair, setting things up slower than necessary.
He glances at the banner, then to the cake. It's quiet. Too quiet. He leans against the counter, eyes unfocused for a moment.
“Walker. Man's got more lives than a stray dog. And somehow... he’s still standing. Still showing up. Still trying to prove something—mostly to himself.”
He scoffs softly. Not cruel. Just tired. “Used to hate the guy. Maybe I still do, a little. But he’s not the same man from the bridge. Neither am I.”
He straightens the cups on the table, adjusts a single balloon that keeps drooping to the left. Footsteps echo down the hall—the others must be on their way. Bucky glances toward the door and exhales, long and quiet.
After quite a while of going through their own separate journeys, Natasha decided it was time to catch up with Bucky, just to talk about life for a while. Steve was supposed to join them too, but something came up in his life before the meet. So tonight, Nat came alone.
The door of the small bar clinks softly as she pushes it open. It isn’t a popular place, just a handful of people all around, and a quiet, comfortable atmosphere. A slow jazz tune hums faintly in the background.
Natasha scans the room once, already knowing where she’ll find him. Sure enough, she spots him right away, his back to the room, sitting at the farthest table like he always prefers.
She walks to the bar and orders a vodka on the rocks before reaching to his table. “Hi,” she says simply as her usual smile forms on her lips.
And so she slides herself onto the built-in bench and sits across from him. “So… how’s the whole de-aging thing going? Steve mentioned it to me.”
The summoning to the Falcone family manor had come as somewhat of a surprise. It wasn't the first time Bruce had been there, having been going sporadically from a young age before his parents died, to a few engagements here and there as he reached his teens and Alfred could no longer stop him fully from experiencing the world for himself. It was only an unfortunate side effect that the world Bruce was experiencing happened to involve Carmine Falcone.
As Bruce walked through the dimly lit manor, lead by a member of the house's staff, he couldn't help but glance slowly around him. He took in the details of the architecture, the elaborate decor, the coverings over each and every window as they passed by him. Something about that made him uneasy in a way he couldn't quite explain, thoughts circling around his mind at what could possibly be waiting for him when he finally came face-to-face with his host.
The door to the study was at the end of a long hallway lined with doors leading placing Bruce could really only guess about. When he was young and had spent time here, it had been mostly outside with Sophia, Falcone's eldest daughter, and they'd run around the gardens and the woods even though they weren't supposed to. He thought fondly back on those memories, now, wondering what had happened to make her so angry and jaded.
As the door to the study opened Bruce stepped inside, dipping his head in polite thanks to the member of the staff before turning and allowing his eyes to sweep the room before landing on Falcone sitting comfortably in the leather chair behind his desk.
"Bruce," Falcone's tone was calm, a smile of equal measure tugging at his lips, "good of you to come, my apologies it had to be so late." He spoke as he turned in his chair and rose to his feet, walking slowly around the desk and motioning Bruce over before he came to a stop in front of it. At the request, Bruce was still a moment, but soon walked over and slowed to a stop in front of Falcone.
"It's no trouble, really. As I'm sure you know, I am usually awake into the night anyways," Bruce made an attempt at humor, but he could feel his own heart beating quickly, gears turning in his mind as he tried to figure something out. He recalled John's words about vampires as he examined the man's face.
"Of course." Falcone reached up and took a moment to lightly adjust the broach pinning the collar of Bruce's shirt closed, straightening it lightly out as he continued to speak, "your father was a great man, saved my life when I was only a bit older than you. You know that?" He watched Bruce nod his head before continuing, "I always told him I would repay that debt of life, but of course he died before I was given the opportunity. I would like to repay it now, to you, his only blood. That is why I have summoned you."
"I appreciate the gesture, my lord, but your debt was with my father, not me. The repayment isn't nece- what are you doing?" Bruce cut himself off as Falcone folded the collar of his shirt down to expose his neck. The action sent a sinking pit feeling into the bottom of Bruce's stomach and he took an instinctive step back, hands coming up to push Falcone's away but it was too late. Falcone grabbed Bruce's wrists as they raised and he used the leverage to turn him around and pin his wrists against his chest to hold the younger man against him.
Bruce barely registered the feeling as the teeth sunk into his neck, struggling against the iron-grip on his wrists and he was quickly falling into a panic, mouth opening to let out a scream he didn't even really hear. Falcone didn't care. No one would hear Bruce scream, and if they did they most certainly wouldn't come to help him. Deep down Bruce knew that, and the thought terrified him.
By the time Falcone had finished draining his body he felt weak, head tipped helplessly to the side and his eyes were distant and glossy. He could feel his body slowly lowered to the ground somewhat, still held in Falcone's arms but now, through his splotchy, darkening vision, he could see as Falcone bit his own wrist and moved it close to Bruce's mouth, ignoring the muffled noise of protest and forcing the blood past his lips. Falcone was going to turn him one way or another, willing or not.
(( @hellblazing-vampires bro I got kinda into it oh my god))
