#poisonouswidow

"Nat, he’s a Gryffindor,” the blonde Slytherin all but hissed, ensuring to emphasize the three syllables in the house name - the word spewing from her lips and seeing her wrinkle her nose as though the very sound of it displeased her - “I don’t care how nice his arse looks in his uniform or how toned his forearms look when he rolls up his sleeves in potions class, I’m not playing third wheel only to have to watch you make out with Barton.” 

Long fingers curled into the glossy cover of a stray Witch Weekly that was swiftly tossed in her direction by her red-headed dorm mate (presumably with the intent of decapitation, you never knew with a snake), deft digits curling into her jumper while staring at Amora - currently facing the full length mirror in the Slytherin dormitory - while she rose and lowered the hemline of her skirt in order to check which length made her legs look best; “How many times have I done the same for you-” Natasha allowed her sentence to trail off, pausing for a fleeting moment before a satisfactory smile over took her features, mirrored in her friend’s reflection as she promised, “I’ll get him to bring the tall blond one you have a thing for, I don’t know why though since he’s a Gryffindor.”

I'll do both~

"You know Bats, I'd really appreciate a little help over here!"

"Sorry!" he called back, firing off a few batarang arrows and freeing her from the grip of Joker's goons.  "Stupid cowl makes it hard to turn my head."

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She could get him flustered when she wanted to, and he cursed his tendency to weaken to the fairer sex.  She was one of the few people on this earth who could best him, and he supposed that's why he found her so much more intriguing than the others.  Her wicked eyes, charming smile, and the fact she knew exactly how to wear her hair and clothes in order to attract the most attention didn't help either.

She had him cornered against a wall which, in hindsight, he supposed wasn't the worst possible place she could have him cornered.  He had the upper hand on information this time, information she desperately seemed to want.  "Oh Mr. Holmes, what are you not telling me?" she cooed, running her fingers up the side of his chest, over his shoulder, and behind his neck.

Flash felt like he should be smoking a cigar. It would have fit the persona and who wouldn’t want a good cigar. He bet he could probably stop by Little Havana and pick up some actual Cubans if he tried, there must be some kind of underground trade in Miami. Not that cigars were really the target of the day. The blond pushed his sunglasses further up his nose, shirt unbuttoned and playing up the role of the Miami playboy. All dazzling smiles, gold chains, too much skin, and a healthy dose of attitude. It’s not like anyone would just spill their guts to a symbiote clad soldier asking questions about the drug trade and its links to Hydra. Well, they might spill their guts to him, but it would be a more literal kind of thing and that didn’t look good on the final report or really help with the whole information gathering thing. Covert ops had to be handled delicately, that’s why he was glad to have such a highly skilled partner.

He’d worked with Natasha before, back when they’d both been a part of Cap’s (and later Hawkeye, that asshole) Secret Avengers team that handled missions too sensitive for the regular Avengers to go charging in. Things where doing the right thing meant a few compromised moral and the ends justified the means. The regular Avengers couldn’t handle the PR problem, but the job still needed to get done somehow. Flash was just eager to help, always the loyal soldier looking to prove himself a hero and for a time, he was. He did some real good with the team and he was proud of his work. Making lasting alliances with other Avengers was just an added bonus.

Spell: I’ll write my character putting a spell on yours.

Elbows rested against the cool metal railing of the balcony, the blonde watching the black clad pair fight below her like the Empress’ of lore that would oversee gladiators fight to the death. The soft curve of lipstick lined lips ostensibly became a response to the archer’s cries of ‘Natasha!' that went unanswered by the red headed assassin.

Usually blue eyes had been commandeered by a luminescent green, the only outward sign of the sorceress’ control over her (excluding the willingness to do the Asgardian’s bidding), the woman having been pitted against her friend (did heroes not consider all on the side of the angels comrades?) for little more than the Enchantress’ amusement.

"Would you not think it poetic, Hawkeye?" An inquiry uttered to fill the silence, curling from her mouth in a hot vapour indicative of the cold as the question echoed throughout the concrete court yard. "My acquaintance borrowed your free will and pitted you against your dear friend - I am bringing it to completion, tying up loose ends if you may.” 

The gravely demand that escaped chapped lips mirrored the texture of the stones beneath them - ‘Break the spell’ - was followed by a simple (and she presumed what was supposed to be effective) ‘Or I’ll shoot you.’ A laugh bubbled upward from the recesses of her throat, light and entertained, the sorceress neither threatened nor intimidated.

"That has been done before." Lower lip jutted outward slightly, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders connoting her flippant attitude toward the prospect of being shot once again. "Although, if you insist,” interlocked fingers parted while she spoke, green energy breaking the skin of her hand as the flame curled around long digits while she spoke.

A flick of her wrist sending an energy beam into Agent Romanoff's chest, her body sent careening through the air until it was stopped by the concrete pillars that stood in abundance across the court yard - useless guardsmen. A brow quirked in response to the sapphire that shone with irritation as they observed her, turning on her heel as Amora removed herself from their presence, reminding him;

NiteLite: Electronic music group NiteLite consists of singers and composers from various backgrounds, including previous radio presenter Viper and Ibiza DJ Brandon Sharpe. Whilst their debut album released in 2009 failed to chart, recent collaborations with various well-known acts has boosted their fame. Sounds like [x]

Viper

Brandon Sharpe

Natasha Romanoff

Genis Vell

Natasha woke with an unrestrained gasp, blinking rapidly. The bright lights were disorienting, and she could feel heavy blows to her torso as she coughed up liquid. Her red hair was tangled, matted to her head due to a combination of sweat and that same water she was expelling from her lungs with every ragged breath. Points for creativity, the red head mused, her mind still a whirling plethora of memories and thoughts that was both confusing and reassuring,  as she thought, erratically, I’ve been reborn.