take my hand, take my whole life too.

  • liv morgan.

    liv morgan. (100)

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    Maja Thompson && James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes
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    Scarlett Josephine Reed and Anthony "Tony" Edward Stark
    March 15th, 2017 at 05:28am
  • LaylaPetrovana

    LaylaPetrovana (100)

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    Maja Thompson | Civilian
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    To be truthful, Maja Thompson hadn't noticed at first when the man moved into the apartment across from her. His arrival at first hadn't changed her routine, hadn't impacted her. She still worked long hours at the seedy strip joint a few blocks from the apartment complex. Still struggled to make rent, and was left mostly undisturbed. It wasn't until two weeks after he moved in did the screaming start. The first time it happened she nearly called the police. The screams had started around three in the morning, and Maja had just been settling into bed after a long shift of greedy eyes and groping hands. It took her a few minutes to realize the screams were coming from the apartment across the hall, where the new tenant had just moved in. Rather than call the police though, she simply listened. Listened to the vulnerability in those bellows and cries, her heart in her throat.

    No, she hadn't done anything that first time. Or even the second or fourth. Rather she would often lay awake, wondering what kind of man lived there. What kind of things did he dream about at night to make him holler himself raw? No it wasn't until one night she heard shattering did Maja gather the courage to act. Most people in her complex were.. Reclusive. Didn't like to be bothered. But the dark-eyed woman could no longer sit idly by while someone was going through such... horrors. She'd gotten up, brewed some coffee and poured it into a mug before letting herself into the hall. She'd hesitated that first time before knocking lightly on the mystery tenant's door her brows furrowed together with concern. By that time the screaming had stopped, but she could hear his harsh and ragged breathing through the door. Maja had waited about ten minutes, though decided that he likely wasn't going to open the door. Instead she set the mug down in front of his door.

    Told him she was leaving him some coffee and turned back to her own apartment. Maja had just closed the door when she heard his open. In the morning when she opened her door to head out for the laundromat she noticed her mug in front of the door, washed and cleaned. That had started something of a tradition. Each time she was home, each time she heard the tenants thrashing or strangled sobs she'd make whatever she had laying around. It wasn't much. Sometimes it was coffee. Sometimes it was tea. Once she'd left a bottle whiskey. In the morning her mugs would be washed and returned. It was an odd routine, and even odder- Maja didn't feel quite as alone as she usually did. And as odd a routine it was- she was comfortable with it. Perhaps that's why she didn't feel odd, bathed in the dingy fluorescent lighting of the apartment, a cup of Irish Breakfast tea in her favorite mug held carefully so not to burn her hands.

    Tonight had been bad. It had started earlier than usual, lasting until his voice was discordant. Maja shifted, knocking on his door three light raps with the back of her knuckle. For a few minutes she could only hear silence, and she was prepared to leave the mug of tea at his door when she heard something rather unexpected. Footsteps, towards the door. She didn't really have time to react as the door was thrown open, and she came face to face with the source of the screaming. He was scruffy looking, though not unattractive. His sharp, angular jawline was covered with stubble and there were bags beneath his eyes. The male was a good bit taller than her, and Maja blinked with surprise. She hadn't expected for him to come to the door and suddenly she felt like a deer in the headlights. Rather than say anything he stared down at Maja with some intensity that rose goosebumps on her arm. It took a moment but, Maja finally found her voice. ''Hi. I'm Maja your neighbor across the hall. I heard you screaming so brought you this. When I had um... Bad dreams my mom would bring me something hot to drink. I thought maybe you could use a friend. Or talk. It sounds like you're having a rough night?''

    _____________________________________________________________________________________________

    Tony Stark | Ironman
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    He was alone, and it was his fault. He'd prioritized wrong, plain and simple. Took for granted that the love Pepper had for him would be withstanding through all. Through his superhero antics. That she would always be there when he got home from saving the world or the city. But he was wrong. It'd been about month since he'd come home, to find Pepper waiting. He forgot what started that fight, a snippy comment made by one of them; but from there it had escalated. Until Pepper finally reached her breaking point. She'd left the next day, had been slowly moving out ever since. Last week she'd quietly moved the rest of her stuff out. And since then he'd been doing whatever he could not to think about. It was why he flew from his mansion in California back out to New York. To the compound. He couldn't be alone in that house which used to be so full of him and Pepper. Couldn't stand the memories or the emptiness.

    He thought the compound would be easier- but he was wrong. He hated the prying eyes. Found himself making up excuses to skip routine field missions. Found it easier to lock himself up in his lab and hyper-focus on side projects. Today was one of those days. He'd been in his lab since yesterday, leaving only a few times. He's not working on anything in particular, just keeping his mind and hands busy. Next to him on his worktable was a half-empty bottle of scotch. It was light outside, though he had no idea the time and did not have the particular will to check. His eyes were stinging, exhaustion dully throbbing behind them though his mind wouldn't rest, preventing him from any sort of meaningful sleep. Besides, sleeping only invited nightmares and Tony just didn't... didn't want to deal with that. Perhaps Pepper had a point, he just couldn't run away from himself hard enough. ''Nick Fury is here to see you Boss. He has someone with him.''

    Friday startled Tony out of his thoughts and he simply shrugged, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig. ''And? Tell him I'm busy.'' The words sounded more petulant, more surely than he'd intended. ''He's insisting Boss.'' Friday stated and Tony rolled his eyes. Of course Fury would insist. And he couldn't of come at a worse time. Tony knew he looked like a wreck. Of course he felt like one but most the time he could hide it behind suits and sarcasm. ''Send him in.'' He sets the bottle back down and tries to rub some of the exhaustion from his eyes. But there's no hiding the stench of alcohol or the bags beneath his eyes. Too soon the elevator is sounding off, alerting the genius of Fury's arrival. And sure enough Fury looks no different than the last time Tony saw him. Dressed in his normal black garb, eyepatch in place Fury strides into the room casting a singular glance around.

    He makes a face though Tony pretends not to notice. ''Fury. Didn't you get the memo? I don't work for you. You want to meet, set up an appointment.'' He's grumbling beneath his breath but it's then he notices the figure behind Fury that Friday had mentioned. ''Stark.'' Is all Fury says for a moment before he notices Tony's gaze, settled on the strange woman. ''I don't think you've met Agent Reed. Stark, Reed. Reed, Stark.'' Fury's voice is business as usual, brusque and Tony does his best not to roll his eyes. He's in a foul mood and he knows it. No reason on taking it out on the poor agent who'd gotten dragged out to the compound. ''I assume you're here for something Fury. Get to the point, I was working.'' At this the ex-SHIELD director makes a noise between a scoff and a laugh; and this time Tony does roll his eyes.
    March 15th, 2017 at 07:55am
  • liv morgan.

    liv morgan. (100)

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    Every damn night the visions came to him, slowly leaking into his brain until he was sitting up ramrod straight, drenched in sweat and throat raw from screams. The first few nights he was alone, he called Steve and talked to him until he felt calm enough to go to sleep again. But after about a week or so, a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that Steve was tired of listening to his problems. The man needed to get some sleep. So, Bucky was left to suffer in silence. That is until the girl next door started leaving him little presents. It started out small, a hot cup of coffee. She’d knocked, and he wanted more than anything to open the door. But that little voice in the back of his head told him don’t, she was a stranger, what if she couldn’t be trusted, et cetera. He waited until he heard her go into her apartment before gingerly opening the door. There, on the floor in front of him, was a steaming cup full of goodness. He picked it up and shut the door behind him. For a few seconds Bucky just stood there holding the cup, debating on whether or not to drink it—what if the cup was poisoned? He threw caution to the wind, thinking that dying would be a good thing, and took a giant swig.

    It was the sweetest damn thing Bucky ever tasted. He tipped the cup back and drank the remaining coffee in about three gulps. The warmth flooded through his body and for the briefest second he forgot about his trouble. What he was. What he’d been. He had to do something to repay his neighbor for the kindness she had shown him. Bucky knew absolutely nothing about his neighbor, only that she worked odd hours and apparently, she was quite kind. So once he was finished with the coffee, he washed the cup and placed it outside her apartment door before going back to sleep.

    This continued on for a good three or so weeks—her leaving something for him, and he grabbing it once she’d retreated back into her apartment. Once she even brought him Whiskey—something he hadn’t had in ages. Even though they never spoke or even saw each other, Bucky felt like he had a friend. Like he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

    One night, he felt well enough to go to bed early. That was a big mistake. As soon as his eyes shut the nightmares started. He tossed and turn, trying to fight them off to no avail. Bucky came too, as he always did, screaming so hard he thought his head was going to explode. Just beneath the sounds of the screams, he could hear someone knocking on his door. Coffee girl. He couldn’t explain it, but something inside him compelled him to answer the door. To see a face other than Steve’s. Bucky swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed across the apartment, gently nudging the door open and peering out.

    There she was, a concerned look on her face and a steaming mug in her hands. She was gorgeous, Bucky could say that much. She had tawny skin and night colored hair, and the deepest brown eyes that he had ever seen. He could tell that she was surprised he’d opened the door—and to be honest, he was surprised too. “Uh, hello… I’m Bucky. Sorry I woke you up,” He spoke sheepishly, running a hand through his unruly hair. Bucky was sure he looked like a deranged lunatic, but this girl was taking it all in stride. When she offered someone to talk to, he was floored. It had been ages since he’d talked to anyone other than Steve. “You know what? Yeah, you could say I’m having a rough night. I could use somebody to talk to. Come in.”

    --

    Ever since the implosion of SHIELD, Scarlett remained close with her former boss. They often checked up on each other, even getting lunch and filling each other in on their lives. Director Fury was one of the few people that she trusted with her life. So, when he called and said that he had a job for her, she jumped on it. “Fantastic, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at around ten. Be ready.” And he hung up. She was a little apprehensive due to not getting much information, but the brunette figured that Fury would never again put her in a position to lose her life. So Scarlett shook the worries off and headed to bed, making sure to set her alarm so she would have time to get ready in the morning. She seemed to wake up almost as soon as she went to sleep, groaning at the sound of her alarm. It had been forever since she had to set an alarm clock, so needless to say her body wasn’t used to being forced to wake up. Scarlett got out of bed and padded across her apartment to the bathroom, shedding her pajamas and hopping into the warm spray. She was out in about ten minutes, and quickly blow dried her hair. While she waited for her flat iron to warm up, the former agent headed back to her bedroom to get dressed. Fury didn’t tell her what kind of job this was, so Scarlett opted for a nice pair of dark blue jeans and a black and red flannel button up shirt, paired with simple ballet flats. Once she was dressed she headed back to the bathroom to straighten her hair. After that, Scarlett quickly threw on some makeup and no sooner than when she finished, she heard a knock on her apartment door. She shut the light off in her bathroom and headed toward the front door, opening it.

    “Agent Reed, you’re looking well.” Director Fury spoke, nodding in greeting. Scarlett nodded as well, stepping to the side. “Thank you Director, please come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything like that?” She asked, leaning against the wall. Fury nodded negatively, waving her question away. “No, I’ll be fine. I want to thank you for agreeing to take this job without any briefing beforehand.” He spoke as he sat down at her kitchen island.

    “Well, I’ll admit that I was a little bit wary about taking it, especially not knowing anything, but I trust you and your judgement. But would you mind at least telling me a little something before we go, so I’m not walking in blind?” Scarlett questioned. The not knowing had been killing her, and she couldn’t wait anymore. She had to know just exactly what she was doing. “Alright, I’ll tell you. You remember Mister Stark?” Fury began. Of course she remembered Tony. Scarlett loved his dry sense of humor, but loathed how he looked at her and her other female agents as pieces of meat. “Well, he really hasn’t been himself lately,” he continued. “Miss Potts left him a few weeks ago, and he moved back up to New York. He’s just lost it. Constantly drinking, he’s become a damn recluse! Anyway, I’m rambling. Scarlett, here’s what your mission is. I want you to look after Tony. Make sure he’s eating, not drinking too much, getting sleep… basically, make sure he doesn’t kill himself. Do you think you can do that for me?”

    Scarlett had been shocked into silence. The untouchable Tony Stark, now a shell of his former self? She knew what it was like to lose everything, so she could sympathize.

    “Of course I can, director.” She spoke, grabbing her coat from the back of her door. “Let’s go.”
    March 16th, 2017 at 06:16am
  • LaylaPetrovana

    LaylaPetrovana (100)

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    Maja Thompson | Civilian
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    She flashes a smile quick enough that it's considered fleeting. Bucky. She mentally repeats the unique name, and rather decides it suits him; though she can't pin the reason why. ''Not at all, I was up anyways.'' There's a lightness to her voice as she waves off his apology. She'd always been a night owl, even before her shifts down at Tease. This close she notes the circles underneath his eyes, the almost... skittish way he holds himself and the faint scent of some sharp and masculine cologne. She's no shrink, but Maja would guess he was dealing with some sort of trauma. In fact, it almost hurt Maja the way he looked surprised. Bewildered even that someone would check on him. Want to speak with him. The petite woman knows how that feels, and it sucks. She shifts her weight, her dark gaze studying the man in front of her a little more carefully. What was he? A victim of abuse? Or perhaps a war veteran? That seemed more plausible. “You know what? Yeah, you could say I’m having a rough night. I could use somebody to talk to. Come in.” Bucky opens the door a little wider and steps aside.

    Maja nods in quiet acceptance and shuffles past him, her slippers scuffling on the floors. It's the first time someone's actually invited her into their apartment since she moved in, a year ago. His apartment is surprisingly nice. Maja perhaps expected the place to be in shambles, chaos. Rather it's almost... Pristine. The night terrors, and the near-immaculate condition of the apartment makes her think military. But she doesn't ask yet. It's layout is almost exactly like her's just different furniture. It's the weight of the steaming mug in her delicate looking hands that remind her of the reason she'd gone over in the first place. Turning around in time to watch the mysterious dark-haired male shut the door quietly, as if doing his best not to wake anyone. The gesture is sweet, though she doesn't comment. Doesn't feel it's her place. Rather she holds the mug out to him as he approaches her, and takes a seat on his sofa, tucking her feet up under her and adjusting her the hem of her shorts. ''I'm not quite sure what you like, but I had some Irish Breakfast laying around.'' She can make out Bucky's features better in his apartment, with the lamp switched on.

    The orange glow highlights things she hadn't noticed before. Little lines on his face, scars, and when he raises the mug to his lips she notes the soft orange glow of his lamps reflecting off his hand. It takes a moment but Maja realizes the reason it's reflecting is because one of his arms, is made of metal. ''Definitely a soldier.'' Deciding it's rude to ask, she doesn't and instead shifts her position to something a bit more comfortable. A slender finger absentmindedly taps against the arm of his sofa, her lips pursed into a small frown. ''So what brought you here Bucky?" She doesn't explicitly ask about the terrors. Not at first. She notes the sweat still beaded on his forehead, the way his hand- the one of flesh and bone, clenches and unclenches and the unsteady manner his chest falls. Maja figures it'd be best to calm him down first.

    She knows from experience how your brain got stuck in this flight or fight mode, and the last thing she wants is to make him worse. ''This isn't exactly paradise.'' There's the subtle hint of a smile on her lips, good amusement woven into her tone. ''And I don't mean to pry, so if you don't want to answer something, you don't have to.'' She pauses before an impish sparkle ignites in her depths as she regards him steadily. ''But I'll make things fair. Every question you answer, I'll answer one if you'd like.'' She thinks it only seems right. After all, she'd have a hard time opening up to strangers. A lose strand of hair falls from her rather messy bun, and she carefully tucks it behind her ear, watching him with an expectant simper.
    _____________________________________________________________________________________________

    Tony Stark | Ironman
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    He feels like a science experiment gone wrong beneath the hawkish gaze of Nick Fury and a woman he vaguely remembers meeting previously. Though the alcohol muddling his brain doesn't really help Stark recognize her. Reed, Nick had introduced her as. ''Well then Mr. Stark I'll be quick.'' Nick barks, remaining towards the elevator. ''Agent Reed is going to be watching over you. Making sure you don't kill yourself. Or do anything stupid that would compromise the integrity of the Avengers.'' He speaks like he's announcing the weather though already Stark feels himself bristling. A babysitter. A babysitter???! Opening his mouth, Fury beats him to it. ''It's not up for discussion Stark. The team is worried about you, and goddammit I'm getting worried too. Now you can either allow Agent Reed to help you, or I'll be checking you into a rehabilitation center and you won't be getting out until I give you the clear. Which will it be?"

    For a moment he wants to shout. Wants to storm off and tell Fury to blow it out his ass. But he knows this man's reach. his contacts. If Nick Fury wants Ironman committed, it'll happen. But that doesn't make him any less angry. The muscles in his jaw twitch as he grinds his teeth irritably his amber gaze smoldering with rage. He wasn't a child. ''And how long am I supposed to let Miss Reed babysit me?'' There's a deadly, quiet calm to his voice and Fury shrugs. ''Until you can start taking care of yourself again. Until you're not a danger to yourself and those around you.'' Great. He rolls his eyes, heaving off a sigh and forces himself to take a deep breath. ''Fine. Consider me babysat.'' He nearly spits the words out and Fury just nods. ''Great, it starts effective immediately. I'll be by to check on you later Stark.'' And like that he's gone, back in the elevators and silence descends immediately upon the pair.

    Tony doesn't even know what to say. He's half-angry and half-humiliated. So he does what he does best, lash out. ''So what'd Fury bribe you with? A raise? A promotion? Or are you more of a pat-on-the-back kind of girl?" He doesn't meet her gaze as he turns back to tinkering with some new mechanics for the suit. Trying to crank out a formula for better balance and aerodynamics. His fingers tremble with irritation over the entire situation. He just wanted to be left alone- was that too much to ask? So what if he chose to drink his days away, that was his choice. He barely hears her answer, just grunts and tries to focus on his task. He doesn't get very far before frustration takes over. He's not going to think like this. So he levels off a bone-rattling huff before straightening his back. He's half tempted to just storm to the elevator without saying anything, but even that feels too childish for Tony.

    So he begins to head past Agent Reed when he briefly pauses. ''I'm going to get some coffee. I, think that's your cue to follow me and take notes.'' His tone is still brusque, and he's still clearly upset over the situation. Perhaps it would be more bearable to think of Agent Reed as a secretary. Or an intern. Tony says nothing as they head into the elevator. Thankfully most of the team is out on a mission so he wouldn't have to deal with their quiet glances, or teases. He doesn't want to hear it right now. Leaning against he wall folding his arms over his chest Tony tilts his head upwards, mentally counting to ten. She'd probably get sick of him. Mostly everyone did. Sooner or later she'd be begging Fury to let her off the case, and he could go back to his life as an adult. The idea makes him grin up at the ceiling of the elevator rather coyly before turning his attention back onto Agent Reed. ''So, am I allowed to go out for coffee Mom, or should I make a home-brew?"
    March 16th, 2017 at 07:59am
  • liv morgan.

    liv morgan. (100)

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    He suddenly wished he was wearing a long sleeve shirt—very conscious of the fact that one of his arms were metal. If Maja noticed, she was polite enough not to say anything and for that Bucky was extremely grateful. On the very rare occasions he left the apartment (he was quite fond of eating, and he and Steve went running every now and again), he could feel the stares from adults and the horrified looks from children. He hated that arm, to say the least. Bucky gratefully took the cup of tea from Maja and took a sip, slow at first but then taking another gulp. “Anything is fine for me, I’m not picky. But this stuff is pretty good, Irish Breakfast is what it’s called?” He set the cup down on his coffee table, sitting on the same sofa as Maja. Bucky should have known that the questions would come sooner or later. They always did. But he felt different around Maja…. Safe. Yeah, that was it. It couldn’t hurt to tell her a modified version of the truth. “Well, my friend lives in Brooklyn and he recommended this area to me. I just got out of a long stint in the army. We grew up together as kids, and figured it would be fun to live near each other as adults.” Bucky spoke before taking another sip of his tea. It was the truth—giant chunks were cut out, but it was still the truth.

    Her words played back over in his head. ‘Every question you answer, I’ll answer one of you like’. It’d be nice to get to know the people that lived around him. Especially Maja—it’d be nice to have one friend on his side that wasn’t Steve. “You’ll answer a question from me, huh? Alright, Maja. Same question. What brought you here? This isn’t exactly the nicest neighborhood, especially for a sweet girl like you.” Bucky wasn’t trying to flirt with her—it had been decades since he flirted with a woman, he was sure he’d fall flat on his face if he did. He was just calling it like he saw it. The woman before him seemed like a genuine soul. And as she said, this neighborhood was less than stellar.

    Bucky listened attentively as Maja spoke, occasionally sipping on his tea. He could tell that just like him, she needed someone to talk to—moreso someone to just listen while she ranted. When she mentioned being a dancer, Bucky raised a brow but continued listening. She didn’t look the type. But, as he was learning every day, the world was a much different place than it was seventy years ago. The women who were 'dancers' back when he was growing up doubled as prostitutes, and you could just tell by the way they carried themselves. “Okay, one more question. What brought you to a job like that? I can tell that you’re smart, and you’re a pretty caring person.” He paused, realizing how that could have sounded. “I’m not judging you in the least—that really isn’t who I am. I’m curious.”

    Once again Bucky sat patiently as Maja explained her job, hanging on her every word. It was just fascinating to learn about another person. The former serviceman finished up his tea and set the mug down on the table, clearing his throat. “I really appreciate you coming to talk to me tonight, Maja. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to someone other than my best friend.” He chuckled.

    --

    Fury warned her that Tony would object, and would definitely throw out an insult or two. That was why he picked her, he explained on the ride over. He was sure that Scarlett would be able to handle it. She raised a brow as Tony mentioned her pay for the work. “Believe it or not, Mister Stark, I’m not getting paid for this. I’m actually concerned about your well-being. It’s a weird thought, I know.” Scarlett chuckled, running a hand through her hair. She just sat on a nearby bench and looked at her phone, occasionally glancing at Tony while he worked. She had to admit that it was fascinating—and a little heartbreaking, considering where he slipped from. At the mention of coffee, Scarlett deposited her phone in her purse and rose from her spot. “I’m not taking notes on you, Tony. You’re not a science experiment.” She sassed right back, following him toward the elevator. The former Agent stayed right on his heels, leaning against the wall of the elevator once they were inside. It took everything in her not to lash out when he called her mom, but she had to prove that she was the bigger person. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so much of a douche. “Yes, you can go out for coffee—but I’m going with you, and I’m driving.” She spoke in a tone that meant she wasn’t to be fucked with. She didn’t care how much money he had or how important he was. Scarlett Josephine Reed was not going to be pushed around. “We can either take my Escalade, or one of your cars.” Scarlett smirked, knowing that Tony would probably rather have dental surgery with no anesthesia then let someone touch one of his cars, which to be honest probably cost more than Scarlett had made in her lifetime.

    “Escalade it is then.” She led the way to the garage, fishing her keys out of her purse. “It isn’t the prettiest car in the world, but it gets me from point a to point b.” Scarlett was being modest, an Escalade was a pretty nice car. But still, it paled in comparison to anything that Tony owned. A little ditty was hummed under her breath as they reached the car, Scarlett pressing the button on the key fob to unlock the doors. She climbed in and buckled her seatbelt, waiting for Tony to do the same. Once he did so, she turned on the car and drove out of the garage, pausing before hitting the main street. “Okay, do you want to go to Starbucks, or do you wanna hit up some place else?” After getting Tony’s response, Scarlett programmed the address in her GPS and headed in the right direction.

    It took a few minutes, but they reached their destination. “Are we ordering takeout, or having it here? Either way, I’ll buy. My way of apologizing for being your babysitter. I know this really isn’t an… ideal situation. But I’ll try my best to be pleasant, and you try and do the same.” Scarlett turned off the car and put the key fob in her purse before jumping out.

    “Are you coming or not?”
    March 17th, 2017 at 05:56am
  • LaylaPetrovana

    LaylaPetrovana (100)

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    Maja Thompson | Civilian
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    Maja is relieved to see that Bucky appears fond of the drink she'd brought over this night. ''Irish Breakfast, yeah. It was on sale, at that little convenience store around the corner." She found that hot drinks after nightmares helped her, she figured the same would extend to the terrors that plagued the bright-eyed male. The more he talks about himself, the clearer a picture she gets of him. He mentions growing up in Brooklyn with his family, joining the army and picking this spot to be closer to his old army buddy. Her hunch about that had been right on the money apparently. “You’ll answer a question from me, huh? Alright, Maja. Same question. What brought you here? This isn’t exactly the nicest neighborhood, especially for a sweet girl like you.” She chuckles at this, her gaze averting towards her hands. Maja shifts half with amusement and dread. Most people looked at her... Differently when she mentioned what it was she did for a living.

    She likes to think that Bucky wouldn't, but you never knew. There was always going to be a stigma, assumptions of her character. But a deal was a deal. ''Well... Um... My job is close by, the strip joint a couple blocks north. The location is convenient.'' Her gaze is all but glued to her hands, as if they're the most interesting thing in the room. She just doesn't want to see his reaction. She knows there's a flush on her sharp cheekbones and her tone rushed. ''This glamorous apartment is what I can afford, but I don't mind. At least I have a place, some people aren't that lucky. And the tips are alright.'' The work wasn't as demanding and exhausting as waitressing, which is what her mother did up until she passed. At least Maja wasn't bone-tired every time she got home. “Okay, one more question. What brought you to a job like that? I can tell that you’re smart, and you’re a pretty caring person.”

    Maja shrugs at first wondering where exactly to start. And it wasn't easy for her to re-tell. “I’m not judging you in the least—that really isn’t who I am. I’m curious.” At this for the first time since admitting what she does for a living, Maja glances up and regards him almost cautiously before she waves her in dismissal. ''Oh don't worry, I've heard it all. Not everyone on the floor approves of what I do, and that's alright, I can take care of myself.'' Falling quiet for a minute she gently bites at her bottom lip. ''It's what I could afford to do. My dad put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger when I was ten. My mom was left to raise me on her own. Not many options for college when your mom can barely afford milk or rent. I got a job as soon as I was eighteen down at Tease to help her pay the bills.'' There's a sort of emptiness to her voice though Maja continues on. ''I figured working there would be a good, solid gig. They pay well enough, and stripping is better than starving. I've been there too.'' Pulling her sweater a bit tighter around her svelte frame Maja shrugs.

    ''You do what you gotta to pay the rent. I've just kind of accepted it.'' Maja was a survivor. That's what her mother said growing up. She would do what she had to in order to avoid being on the streets again. Even if not everyone approved, though true to his word Bucky didn't seem phased. ''My turn.'' She clears her throat, forcing it back to it's normal cheerful timbre. "Where were you stationed?" It seems like a harmless enough question to the girl. And as they continue to talk, Maja realizes that she actually feels comfortable around him. There's something skittish about him sure, but there's understanding in his gaze. There's kindness, something most New York natives lacked. It's nice she decides, sitting on his couch up later than most sane people. ''Is that how that happened?" She gestures to her arm, while glancing towards his. ''If you don't want to answer that, you don't have to. I was just a little curious.'' She explains, her doe-like gaze remaining on his Aegean ones.
    _____________________________________________________________________________________________

    Tony Stark | Ironman
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    To her credit, Agent Reed keeps up rather well with him. Though Tony's still fuming about the situation. A few cups of coffee and some caffeine to help sober him up would probably help to evaporate some of his anger. “Yes, you can go out for coffee—but I’m going with you, and I’m driving.” There's a clear note of authority in her voice and Tony is half-tempted to push her; though something keeps him from doing so. He simply grunts pressing the elevator's button to the garage floor where the cars were kept. “We can either take my Escalade, or one of your cars.” At this he actually scoffs his eyebrows scrunching together with ill-mannered humor. ''You want to drive one of my cars?" There's an obvious note of incredulous as he scoffs again at the thought. “Escalade it is then.” He just shrugs carelessly, keeping pace with Agent Reed.

    “It isn’t the prettiest car in the world, but it gets me from point a to point b.” He's seen worse. Though he doesn't say so. ''Guess it'll have to do.'' He says instead, in a somewhat childish and petulant tone. If he didn't think it to be so over the top, Tony absolutely would of dragged his feet. But even he is not that childish. For once he's quiet as he gracelessly tumbles himself into the passenger seat, buckling himself in. The last thing he wants is to be scolded by Agent Reed over the use of seat belts. He may actually throw himself from a moving car at that point. “Okay, do you want to go to Starbucks, or do you wanna hit up some place else?” She asks once strapped in and Tony stares at her as if she has three heads. ''Give me the GPS. I'll put in the coordinates. Starbucks is too busy, always.''

    There was a little hole in the wall place he liked going to. The coffee didn't taste like dirt and it normally wasn't busy. Even their pastries were alright. Much easier than the hassle of going to Starbucks. Soon enough the directions are punched in and the duo is on their way. In the car Tony is a ball of restless energy. He shifts his position every so often, and fiddles around with the radio, flipping through the channel every minute or so. Though he does manage to keep his rather snappy remarks to himself. By the time they get there, Stark is left wondering what measure of okay Fury was evaluating him by. Tony had always flirted with that edge of not okay, though Fury had never acted like this before. “Are we ordering takeout, or having it here? Either way, I’ll buy. My way of apologizing for being your babysitter. I know this really isn’t an… ideal situation. But I’ll try my best to be pleasant, and you try and do the same.”

    Reed's voice startles Tony out of his thoughts and he just levels off a huff. ''Eating inside, we're not in a rush. I don't need you to buy. Even if I don't agree with your presence being required, I was raised better than to let a woman pay.'' Cautiously he observes her for a minute with a small shrug. ''But, I'd save your apology. I hear I'm a difficult person to be around. I have to say I probably haven't been the most welcoming to you. Don't take it personally, if I had the option of bothering Fury rather than you, I'd take it.'' Tony all but grumbles, with a little shrug as he gets out of the car, keeping his head low as he walks into the coffee shop. It doesn't take long for them to be seated, a table near the window with a menu. Tony knows what he wants already, though he glances towards Scarlett. ''Pick whatever you want. I don't care. Though while you're deciding I want to hear what exactly Fury is looking for so I can get him off my back.''
    March 20th, 2017 at 05:05am
  • liv morgan.

    liv morgan. (100)

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    United States
    He felt a rush of sympathy for her as she explained her story. The former soldier knew from experience, growing up in poverty wasn’t easy at all. That was one thing he knew wouldn’t change with the times. No matter what technological advances came along there would always be people in this city, around the world actually, that would go to bed hungry. Some that didn’t even have a bed at all. Poverty was a standard in all time periods. Bucky nodded, respectfully listening as Maja recanted her childhood, frowning slightly at the mention of her father’s suicide. “I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly. He’d have been lying if he hadn’t thought of committing suicide. The only thing that snapped him back into reality was the thought of Steve, his best friend since forever. Even when he’d been… well, you get the point. Steve was the one person Bucky still had in the world. He wasn’t about to do that to his best friend.

    Eighteen? Christ, that was a lifetime ago to him. “Yeah, starving isn’t really a good thing,” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair for what felt like the trillionth time that night. If he didn’t respect Maja before, he certainly did after he heard her reasoning for her career. It was pleasing to him that she so cared for her family. Seeing someone so fiercely loyal to their own really wasn’t something you saw nowadays. Oh, Christ, I sound like my grandpa. Bucky thought to himself, a chuckle leaving his lips. He raised a brow at Maja’s next question, figuring out how to word his answer. “I kinda traveled all over, but I was mostly in Russia.” There. Again, it was the truth (with a giant omission). Bucky wasn’t the type to lie. Just not his style.

    He tensed up for the briefest second when she asked about his arm. Maja was the first person to just ask—most people stared at him with horrified expressions. Or even worse, pity. In his opinion, he didn’t deserve pity. Not after the things he’d done. “Yeah, something along those lines. The exact events were kinda knocked out of my brain. It’s been pieced together for me by people that were there, so I sort of know what happened but not everything. “Hands still clutched the now empty cup and he bit his lip, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack beginning to grow within his stomach. No. Not now. He didn’t want her to think he was a complete psycho.

    “Okay, next question and let’s try to lighten the mood a little bit. What’s your favorite color? I’m kind of partial to green, myself.” Bucky put the cup down and focused on Maja as she talked, and amazingly he started to feel the nervousness ebb away. The sound of her voice was soothing to him. Hell, she could read the phonebook (if they even still made those, again he had no idea) to him and he would be completely relaxed. He inwardly thanked himself for deciding to grow a pair and opened the door, because now he was a little less lonely. And to be honest, it looked like she was too. Working a job like hers where people only viewed you as an object couldn’t have been easy at any age. But she appeared to be positive about the whole thing. Her attitude kind of reminded her of Steve’s when they were younger—do the best you can to make the best of a bad situation. He figured that they would get along, if they ever met.

    --

    The infamous Tony Stark was being a gentleman to her? This was a pleasant surprise. “If you’re sure,” Scarlett spoke in a tone that was supposed to mean that although she didn’t need Tony to pay for her, it was still appreciated. She chuckled slightly at the mention of him being difficult to be around. Scarlett understood, although it was a little bit of a pain in the ass. No one would be the human equivalent of sunshine after the things that Tony had been through, that he had seen. Which was why Olivia was willing to give him a little bit of a pass. She followed him into the café, sitting across from him before thanking the waitress for handing her a menu. “I must have driven past this place like a million times, but I’ve never stopped in here.” Scarlett mumbled as she scanned for something to eat.

    At Tony’s next question, Scarlett had to put her menu down. “You and I both know that Fury isn’t exactly the easiest person to shake. Especially when he’s dead set on something.” She sighed. “But okay. Tony, I’m trying to say this in the nicest way possible, but it’s still gonna sting a little bit. You’re a shitshow right now. Fury wants to see a genuine improvement. See you not constantly drinking—and don’t try to bullshit me, because when I walked in the smell of scotch was so strong I almost barfed. He wants to see shades of the old Tony. The not constantly drunk, always sarcastic and sometimes a little bit of an asshole Tony. He basically wants to not have to worry that you’re going to end up committing suicide or dying in a car accident because you’re drunk.” There, she said it. Was it the prettiest thing in the world to say? No, but it had to be said.

    “I think I’ll have a raspberry crepe and some green tea,” Scarlett decided when the waitress came over to ask for their orders. She waited patiently for Tony to relay his before handing both menus off, thanking the waitress again.
    March 20th, 2017 at 07:47am