[Days like today he has a thousand and one nightmares. The humanity in his head echoes and screams and drives home the thousand memories of lives he's never lived. He hates humanity and loves it. He loathes mankind and wants to take it in his arms and keep it safe.
He can't even dive into Grant Ward or Will Daniels's memories. When it's a night like tonight only the worst skims to the surface. He's painfully aware that the memories of Will Daniels's mother tucking him in, of Kara Palamas holding onto him tightly aren't his.
this is all SHIELD's fault curled up in the corner of the one room cell that he lives in, the king of the earth tugs his hands through his hair. At least it's stopped falling out. But without SHIELD he wouldn't be here truthfully and...and...
There's a vague figure lurking at the edge of Maveth's vision, beyond the invisible wall. He grimly picks at the smooth metallic collar around his neck. At the sound of the alarm the collar would squeeze and release, disconnecting him from the brain. Leaving him in darkness similar to the planet that had been his own.
He won't beg.
He won't.
What the outsider might see is a curled up shivering creature who's face - unknowingly - is streaked with tears.]
This is a room made for torture. Grant Ward remembers feeling tortured here.
I didn't understand it...until now. Human beings have such a...a deep capacity for isolation. For loneliness. Here...It's magnified. Times a thousand.
[She's not 150 percent sure she wants to train. Professor Xavier will know if she doesn't so she's making time - later. She'll head back to the mansion later but she's got four hours of danger room practice.
And really she'd much rather sit here with her issued laptop and watch bob's burgers, keeping a vague eye on the street amazed her phone hasn't buzzed yet. Damn.]
He shifted the rifle to his other shoulder and exhaled, watching the window. He squeezed water into his mouth and dug his gloved hands into the limestone. Another and Another and Another. It'd be fine. This was what the fucking devil of Hell's Kitchen should be doing instead of sitting on his ass pretending to be fucking Batman.
At the thought of Batman he closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, hearing a child's laughter. Then back to the window.
Two clean shots, one bullet. He could do this easily.
Keeping an ear out for sounds on the roof top and his eyes on the ground below he lost himself in his revenge.]
I praised him to the skies to be sure.
He can't even dive into Grant Ward or Will Daniels's memories. When it's a night like tonight only the worst skims to the surface. He's painfully aware that the memories of Will Daniels's mother tucking him in, of Kara Palamas holding onto him tightly aren't his.
this is all SHIELD's fault curled up in the corner of the one room cell that he lives in, the king of the earth tugs his hands through his hair. At least it's stopped falling out. But without SHIELD he wouldn't be here truthfully and...and...
There's a vague figure lurking at the edge of Maveth's vision, beyond the invisible wall. He grimly picks at the smooth metallic collar around his neck. At the sound of the alarm the collar would squeeze and release, disconnecting him from the brain. Leaving him in darkness similar to the planet that had been his own.
He won't beg.
He won't.
What the outsider might see is a curled up shivering creature who's face - unknowingly - is streaked with tears.]
This is a room made for torture. Grant Ward remembers feeling tortured here.
I didn't understand it...until now. Human beings have such a...a deep capacity for isolation. For loneliness. Here...It's magnified. Times a thousand.
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Bob's Burgers.
And really she'd much rather sit here with her issued laptop and watch bob's burgers, keeping a vague eye on the street amazed her phone hasn't buzzed yet. Damn.]
The dragon and the wolf
A bad one.
He shifted the rifle to his other shoulder and exhaled, watching the window. He squeezed water into his mouth and dug his gloved hands into the limestone. Another and Another and Another. It'd be fine. This was what the fucking devil of Hell's Kitchen should be doing instead of sitting on his ass pretending to be fucking Batman.
At the thought of Batman he closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, hearing a child's laughter. Then back to the window.
Two clean shots, one bullet. He could do this easily.
Keeping an ear out for sounds on the roof top and his eyes on the ground below he lost himself in his revenge.]
Phasma