#orphansoldier

more like fuck ur chicken strips 

It's been decades upon decades since she last saw him but not since the last that she's thought of him, if she were being completely honest with herself, the last time she thought about him was yesterday. &&        it's because he's always there, always nagging&pulling at the memories of the two arguing about which cartoon was better while steve yelled at them, told them to shut up because they were ruining the cartoon for him. katherine was usually able to multitask when she thought about him or her time in brooklyn, oh so long ago. she could be thinking about her&him arguing about going out dancing while screwing with precious elena gilbert's life all at once. but up until a handful of weeks ago when HYRDA &S.H.I.E.L.D files were leaked&she had discovered that he was certainly alive&not dead like she&most of the world had originally thought, katherine had to sit down. it was hard for her to wrap her head around because he wasn't bucky, he wasn't the young man who liked to lift her off her feet&spin her around enough times to make her dizzy(which obviously had to be more than ten times. she could only imagine how dizzy he must've been.) he wasn't the soldier who had wrote her back&forth during his time in the war, he was one of few humans that she didn't have to turn to find tolerable. he was g o n e; that man is a g h o s t.  thinking about seeing him, him not remembering her or anyone else from his past made her feel sick; almost. she was more concerned about him not remembering her because that was her personality, s e l f i s h, plus she had actually let herself feel something during the forties with bucky&steve, mostly bucky. &&        when she saw him, slumped against the wall near the alley she usually fed around, she stilled almost entirely, the only part of her body responding was her hand wiping at her mouth, chin &nose. generally she was a neat eater, but for a man who didn't remember her, a man who she cared so much about, first appearances were everything.

[1910//14, 11:49:01 PM] gwen 🍉: "yey"

[1910//14, 11:49:14 PM] gwen 🍉: Raleigh keeps hard candies in his pockets and chews them when he's nervous

aw uwu

[1910//14, 11:49:25 PM] Space Gandalf: CHRIST

[1910//14, 11:49:41 PM] gwen 🍉: IM RESEARCHING

[1910//14, 11:49:46 PM] gwen 🍉: THIS IS PURELY

[1910//14, 11:49:49 PM] gwen 🍉: FOR RESEARCh

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         When the door closed a part of him deactivated, and another came back to living. Anybody could see it, the way muscles so tense shook into an estranged feign of casualty, and never lost that tension. In such correlation, the balance lost between body and mind, there was no recreation of the other half either; only false, and only masked. How much simpler it would have been to stop her from closing that door;      than to continue listening to words wrapped in lies as if they would soften the blow for him, as if he needed that.

         In the place of an answer he set an action and held up his hands to her to do as she’d offered. He knew this way she would cease to speak more of the measures anybody would go to, in fear of him. To him, in other places and at other times, speaking came before acting, but he knew many would not have it this way, his way. A nod followed soon as she explained his position in this, however he doubted he could answer many of her questions, yet he had agreed to do so. And hopefully gain the right to ask in return. After all he always clung onto whatever rights and freedom only came into his reach. Never did the uncertainty that he would indeed get to have it make him falter in his tries.

        A weird mind thing        a voice without pressure was what he came across rare, and only that was truly peculiar to him. Soft spoken, and patient, kind almost. The casualty in her tone stirred an odd sense of comfort within him. But so did strength, and so did independence, whatever of such he had. 

           Her weight is shifted between her two feet, the corners of her mouth twisting into a frown as she stared at the bulky hand cuffs. Her eyes filled with concentration and the wheels in her mind turning, dusting the cobwebs off of them and setting them in to full speed. Continuing to stare at the cuffs for another moment, her brow creases and her fists clench before she hears a click which accompanied by the slagging of the cuffs around his wrists.             She relaxes, reaching forward to pull them off of his wrists, gently and carefully. Taking the cuffs off of him were like unleashing a rabid dog on a group of kids, almost like in that one movie where the group of kids hit their baseball over the wall of miscellaneous appliances. Or so she'd heard around the large building, she just hoped the ending of this meeting was like the movie. Where the so called rabid dogs ends up being nice and friendly, but her hopes weren't high because this wasn't a movie. This was real life, this was an assassin standing in front of and she was some sort of witch mutant. If those were even a thing, she just liked to dub herself as the witch mutant because she could go beyond what the nerve mutation limits.           Heavy in her hands, she sets the titanium handcuffs on the table that's only a minor ten steps away from them before she shuffles to grab a paper and a pen. "You can sit, or stand, whichever you want." She says, bracing herself on the edge of the desk before lifting herself up and sitting herself on the edge. "Just let me know when you're ready and I'll start. There's only a few."