chopshopsuplex: @sways (profil)
[personal profile] chopshopsuplex posting in [community profile] kyouyasangels_inc

So she's learning Russian. So one of her...partners has been schooling her in the 'proper ways of the Russian'-- so what? It's still cold as hell, in the heart of the matter let alone the weather, and the only great thing they've got going for them in this area is the vodka.

And even that's starting to run out. Grease, grit, car parts scalped out in her bare hands? Fine. Running, fighting for her life, coding messages? That's what she signed up for.

"I did not sign up for camping," Gaby mutters to herself, goggle covered browns taking in the scene, the expanse of white that surrounds her, nearly blinds her.

It isn't camping so much as....rugged wild backpacking this time. Now, yes, maybe she'd gotten a little caught up in the riches and class and luxury of a spy's life but this is a rude wake up call.

If she could just get to the village she's supposed to find, then all would be well and her nose and toes and everything inbetween can warm up.

Up ahead, she spots the bumbling form of a man easily cutting through the snow.

"Ah, excuse me!" Gaby calls in her cobbled together Russian. "Can you help me get to the next village? I believe I might be lost." Funny enough, she won't have to play too hard at being the lost tourist this time around.

(No harder than with their target in the coming mission)

beautiful fuckin title

16/9/15 22:34 (UTC)
sillaged: (glare: tws)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
What did the person behind him just call him? Potato fucker?

Bucky sighs, pauses to turn, and spots what looks like a woman walking to him - though it’s hard to tell in the blinding whiteness of the snow blanketing everything around them and her winter gear. Huh. What interest would someone like her have in tracking down an isolated village in Mother Russia? Hasn’t anyone learned that surviving this kind of winter isn’t a promise?

Well, she’ll learn soon enough - he certainly did. It explains the mix-up of the words unfamiliar to her tongue too.

So Bucky can’t be too bothered, the assassin squinting to take in more of this other person heading in the same general direction that he is. He pulls the mask covering half his face down to gruffly shout back,

Guess I can take a detour, but you better keep up.

He has his own mission to focus on, one of many that keeps him occupied. Still he remains on his guard, hand comfortably settling on his sidearm nestled in thigh holster beneath an inconspicuous overcoat. Threats come in all shapes and sizes. Not today, Satan. Not today.
Edited 16/9/15 22:35 (UTC)

Re: takes a bow

17/9/15 04:52 (UTC)
sillaged: (well uhhhhhhh)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
A noise that sounds like it could’ve been a curt laugh sounds muffled from the mask. He does slow his pace fractionally, enough to be just this side of being an asshole (though it was fun seeing her struggle to catch up).

She’s clever with a joke, at least. Game...that’s certainly a way to describe his life as the Winter Soldier, the USSR’s most valuable asset. Also an apt way to refer to his prey. He casts her a quick glance.

I’m enjoying the scenic route,” he huffs.

You know, making my way to kill some poor, unfortunate motherfuckers' souls, like I do, is certainly something he has to struggle not to say. Too much of a chance she’s someone sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. to take him out just yet.

Anyway, shouldn’t I ask the same of you? Especially with such little preparation for getting lost here, from what I can tell. Not much to see as a tourist.
Edited 17/9/15 05:00 (UTC)

(no subject)

17/9/15 08:10 (UTC)
sillaged: (armed and dangerous)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Laughter...ish for the second time from Bucky, check. Even if it’s accompanied by faint unease.

Cute. But wives aren’t exactly advised for me.

He trips and stumbles a little over a tree root not buried quite deep enough in the snow, and a “shit!”--in English--comes out of nowhere. It’s happened before, with all the languages he’s been forced to learn the wires get crossed sometimes, even though whenever he has to resort to English it feels easier than the others, somehow.

He just hopes she didn’t notice, though the next time she stumbles his fingers grab her elbow then just as quickly drop away, purely a reflex action. The Winter Soldier was fucking sick of winter already.

Still he can’t resist a snort. That kinda talk sounds familiar. Brainwashing indeed.

Can’t show the world if you freeze to death so be glad you ran into me,” that good ol cocky tone colors his words. “They-- we-- have more potential than competency here in wonderful mother Russia.” Then he looks ahead.

It’s just a few meters away.

(no subject)

17/9/15 21:44 (UTC)
sillaged: (well uhhhhhhh)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Bucky warily side-eyes her, mouth in a tight line. He struggles against agreeing, thoughts that threaten to peek out, so he settles for a cough against the cold instead to clear the itch from his throat.

"If we're so gullible, do you truly believe we're superior?"

Is this really the time and place for that, Professor Oak Bucky? He just knew she wasn't buying into all the crap she'd said, though, so it warms his heart to know his intuition's still as keen as ever. He moves on quickly, hurries his pace as lights finally show through the foggy, dusty winds.

"Anyway, don't flatter yourself. You don't know how fast night falls up here. Something tells me you woulda been freezing your ass off all night. I'm sure you're competent, but it's how this is up here - mother Russia isn't great about forgiveness from the cold."

The wind dies down long enough for him to get some air to the rest of his face as he tugs the mask down.

"How did a villager in such a remote place earn the interest of someone very obviously not from here?"

(Takes one to unknowingly know one, eh?)

(no subject)

18/9/15 04:20 (UTC)
sillaged: (i see u)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
"Yeah well, it's not my fault you came at me looking like Hansel and Gretel lost in the forest," he twists his lips. "H-- the USSR isn't exactly traditional with their education. And anyway that's not a Russian thing. It's an everywhere thing."

Finally his hand relaxes off his sidearm, only because nearing the village he doesn't want to draw attention for looking suspicious. Coming in with her is probably a good decision-- others can assume the usual, man and wife or unmarried sinners or brother and sister...whatever. So long as that's all they assumed.

Then they'd be off to their separate tasks and never see each other again, probably. That's how the world works, especially Bucky's world. Or they would see each other all the time, if she's working for somebody at odds with Hydra. (Who isn't, he thinks wryly.)

Bucky coughs. Lumberjack? What the fuck? Does he really look like one? Well, that's a plus-- again, rouse as little suspicion as possible, that's the goal. Keep the target in mind and close sight, do your job, and be done with it. Easy tenets for an assassin to follow, and that's something the Winter Soldier does exceedingly well.

"Wood shortage in my village."

He offers a quick smirk then tucks it back away just as fast.

(no subject)

18/9/15 18:15 (UTC)
sillaged: (well this is awkward)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
He can’t help but actually laugh as she meets his sarcasm bit by bit; a strange feeling, really, to laugh in front of a stranger who could still very well happen to be someone sent to kill him (or at least try). Ah well, if there’s anything Bucky’s learned it’s that surprises are everywhere. He catches that scowl though, and it only makes him enjoy the game more.

Thanks, sweetcheeks, your gratitude’s much appreciated. This hunter's got a little heart left.”

He glances around at all the hostility surrounding them. Yeah, he could’ve warned her, but that isn’t part of the plan. And why would he go out of his way to rouse even more suspicion from the tiny brunette?

The trees here aren’t considered...loyal enough so I was sent to cut ‘em down. Mother Russia and her loyalty, you know.

With all luck (which he doesn’t have much of, it seems) she won’t inquire further, but he won’t be surprised if she does. She’s a nosy one, all right, but at least from what he can tell she’s cute. The one plus to all this.
Edited 18/9/15 18:18 (UTC)

(no subject)

19/9/15 05:42 (UTC)
sillaged: (armed and dangerous)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Bucky's so intent on navigating his way through that his sharp reflexes--honed by training and endless war and even more endless blood, honed by the Red Room and the serum in him--utterly fails him.

He doesn't see the dainty-in-boots foot nor could he properly catch himself on his hands when he fell because of the snow. With that, he fell face-forward into the cold, sinking among water crystals. (Ironic...)

This time he doesn't bother censoring the thought and just spouts in English (again) "what the fuck!" while spitting out clumps of snow and brushing them off his face. He glares up at her while scrambling to his feet, so caught off-guard and irritated that he could make such a fool of himself.

In this village, no less; he refuses to look up and shoot daggers at whoever might be watching. Snow still clumps to his longish hair - he's a real sight for sore eyes that need some laughter.

"Really cute." He grumbles, then slides back into Russian without batting an eye.

"So if I'm not a lumberjack, and I'm not military, what exactly do you think I am?"
Edited 19/9/15 05:48 (UTC)

(no subject)

20/9/15 08:16 (UTC)
sillaged: (glare: tws)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Bucky glares at her with the glaringest of glares. He doesn't like being outmaneuvered by anyone, including the young woman in front of him. And the humiliation adds to his annoyance, adds to the grit of his jaw.

"Yeah, who really knows?"

His tone lacks any expression. Touched nerve, maybe, but also his ears pick up on the snap of a twig--yes, a twig, maybe from one of the bountiful trees surrounding the village. He grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her into the gap between two houses, shooting a gaze over his shoulder.

She's right about nobody exactly liking his presence, but he wants to save her from finding out just how much so. Not that he's going out of his way for her, keeping your enemies closer or whatever. If she is, in fact, an enemy.

"Shut up unless you want to get even more attention drawn. At least while I'm escorting you on your little mission. Little girl."

He ends with a scowl and another glance over his shoulder to see, in horror but not unexpectedly, an approaching figure. Shit shit shit... This little adventure could get very interesting in the next few minutes.
Edited 20/9/15 08:16 (UTC)

(no subject)

22/9/15 07:16 (UTC)
sillaged: (armed and dangerous)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
“Uh--” is what slips out when she redirects his gaze and he’s got no choice but to stare down at her, ice-blue taking in her features up-close. His jaw is tight as he’s ready to get into the action he’s been sent here for. The gun resting across his back seems thirty pounds heavier now, and her hand holding his chin burns through to the bone.

He curls his left arm around her shoulders, silver glinting with the white snow as backdrop and contrasting with the dark overcoat.

If this is you coming onto me, you should know I got a lotta baggage,” he leans down to press his mouth against her ear. Then his tone grows flatter, deadpan. “Haven’t you heard of confirming your target?

And how long has it been since the soldier's been against someone like this (a.k.a. not in combat)? It felt almost alien to him after so long without.

He moves forward, keeping the proximity but moving enough to hopefully look up to something instead of trying to track down the target before the target tracks him down.

She's really fucked up his plans, whether she knows it or not. But, it's not like she's been the one drawing the attention.

(no subject)

23/9/15 00:39 (UTC)
sillaged: (i'm snipin')
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
He tries to shift to see if the figure had fucked off yet or not but it would have been too obvious. The mystery person is just beyond his peripheral vision, and besides, Gaby is so close she's about all in his line of sight.

Strong, huh? Bucky takes ahold of a dainty wrist, fingers gripping hard, and twists her arm behind her back--not to the point of pain, but enough to press her forward more. He keeps his grip on her upper arm with his other hand. He can give a convincing show--maybe. Usually he isn't this out in the open and more in the shadows.

"You're in luck there; Russia has a lot of both," his voice remains low and dry, though when he next speaks it holds the tiniest hint of a smirk, "but some much more than others."

Then another scowl.

"Usually I don't have company blowing it for me."

(no subject)

23/9/15 06:50 (UTC)
sillaged: (well uhhhhhhh)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
An eyebrow arches at her but he can't bring himself to draw back from her. This little game had escalated beyond what he'd thought it would. He has no other ideas of how to deflect attention so he grabs her chin, mirroring her actions earlier, tilting her face up more. A flush spreads down his neck and he leans down to growl just under her jawline,

"I doubt you could outlast me. I dare you to find out."

Bucky isn't sure if the footsteps he hears are drawing closer or farther away; either way it feels like a rock in his stomach. What if that's his target? She's keeping him from being able to tail them but he's also intrigued by her choice of actions.

She must have plenty of experience with this--probably pales in comparison to Bucky Barnes, but not altogether impossible. She certainly makes a good partner, much to his reluctance to admit.

"I'da detoured if you hadn't come along. Little lost lamb in the cold."

(no subject)

23/9/15 17:43 (UTC)
sillaged: (cocky jerk)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Heat and something else--anger, or frustration maybe--unfurl deep in his belly with the sting of teeth on his lip and his eyes narrow, focusing in on hers. His hands shift to push her weight off him long enough to spin them around.

Her back hits the wall this time and he holds her wrists up against the hard surface, nosing at her nose, lips barely brushing. He knows his back is exposed but all he hears is their breaths, curling into the freezing air around them in puffs.

Get those pretty eyes checked, then,” his voice is a low rumble, “or else you’ll lose this game.

He shifts his body against hers, repaying the favor and his teeth pull at the delicate skin of her neck, right over her carotid artery.

The sounds of a window opening and a door closing reach them and fingers tighten around her wrists. He feels too closely watched, even with the distraction her body’s warm pressure is providing.

(no subject)

24/9/15 04:34 (UTC)
sillaged: (glare: tws)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Motherfucker! He knows to trust his instinct but he'd been distracted by their company. Classic and predictable, and he'd allowed himself to slip up - unforgivable. If or when his superiors hear about this fuck-up, he won't exactly get the spa treatment.

Finding his breath again takes some time, takes some painful wheezing but he straightens faster than if he'd not had all those lovely enhancements.

"Yeah, pardon us," Bucky hoarsely croaks before hurling himself forward to grab her upper arm, tight all over again.

"There's no villager to interview, is there?" He growls into her ear as he starts to drag them away.

He won't be making the same mistake twice.

(no subject)

25/9/15 05:06 (UTC)
sillaged: (armed and dangerous)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Gun or knife? This might be the toughest decision Bucky's had to make so far since coming out of stasis. He stumbles when he takes the foot to the knee, and though his grip is tight the element of surprise had shocked him to release her.

From his chilly vantage point on the ground he eyes her ankle and with his metal hand and the extensive force within it, he grabs her and pulls, so hard that she's no choice but to end up joining him on the ground. Maybe they can make snow angels together, wouldn't that be just precious?

Regaining his footing quickly, he swiftly pulls out the blade at his waist, fingers fitting around the handle perfectly as he kneels over her and presses the tip just under her chin. His metal fingers squeeze her upper arm, it and the knife certainly threatening.

He's gotta admit, Hydra surprised him on this one with this woman. Why hadn't they told him? Another test of his skill, maybe? They always make adjustments and calibrations, tweaking every little aspect when he goes into the room. Surely this is just another way of testing that. The assassin formerly known as Bucky, now a constant test subject, number 748, code name: the Winter Soldier.

"Might wanna take things a little slower next time," he huffs over her, squeezing fingertips slightly more, "don't want em to think you're easy."

A shark-like grin pulls at his lips, revealing those pearly-whites.

"No, doll. Afraid my job description doesn't include chopping down trees and being friendly to Gretel here."
Edited 25/9/15 05:08 (UTC)
sillaged: (glare: tws)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Can you blame a guy for trying?”

Lips go from baring fangs to a tug of a smirk at the corner. Alright, so first mistake out of stasis: this is off-limits, any semblance of this--a faulty programming error he’s sure They will fix soon enough. The former life of past-pimpin’-dude Bucky Barnes peeks through at the most inconvenient times. But damn if she isn’t cute, yet deadly. A good combination.

He digs the point in a little harder, not even close enough to break the skin but still a threat. He lowers his voice, leans down again with every muscle and bone in his face hard, sharpened, honed in on the very real possibility of a vicious fight.

Mmm...feeling sorry for myself isn’t part of the deal. Not real good at it, you see.”

Another drop in the volume of his voice.

What are you really doing here?”

(no subject)

27/9/15 05:19 (UTC)
sillaged: (listen up kid)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Just what the hell does she know about what he'll be doing in his life? He's not allowed to think that far but sometimes it's crept up like a fog rolling in on the horizon.

Finally Bucky slips the knife back into slim leather sheath and hauls her up, still just by the one arm. He's not letting his guard down again by far, but this is too risky. Too messy, already. Fuck! He's let himself really slip up this time.

"Maybe you can teach me how it's done, then," he practically spits as he drags her back toward town.

"Don't worry about my job - you're coming with me to it, anyway. My little lumberjack apprentice."

(no subject)

28/9/15 04:39 (UTC)
sillaged: (glare: tws)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Bucky laughs, curt and cold like his lovely, charming personality.

Oh, I couldn’t pass up a lesson from Miss Subtle here. Do I just bite someone’s lip and get my way?” He snarls, vicious and yet still somehow full of some shit.

What would make you say that? There’s much to be overwhelmed when it comes to him,” he grins, borderline dark and twisted. “And I think you’re just the one to help me. Call it...a sharp eye for skills.”

He’s not about to let this new, dangerous enemy out of his sight. Not when she’s much more than she looks.
Edited 28/9/15 05:12 (UTC)

(no subject)

29/9/15 03:57 (UTC)
sillaged: (armed and dangerous)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Oh no she bettah don't.

"Bitch!" he spouts, then the equivalent in Russian, stomach in his throat and pain shooting through him. He doubles over but grits his teeth and struggles to straighten, hand going toward the other weapon strapped around one thunder thigh. His vision is slowly returning but instincts have kicked in and he's running on pure adrenaline.

"This again, hm? You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

He pants, hair sticking to his face and mouth. Stubble lines his jaw, which is still all clenched, bared teeth again. He's tired of the games, tired of holding back and giving her the opportunity to play the sweet little girl role.

Instead of turning to the gun, he grips her neck with his metal hand, fingers digging in on the sides as not to crush her windpipe (not unless he has to). He pushes his body hard against hers and tightens the grip a little.

"Neither do I."
Edited 29/9/15 03:59 (UTC)

(no subject)

29/9/15 22:28 (UTC)
sillaged: (well uhhhhhhh)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Bucky grunts with the pull on his hair, scalp stinging and eyes watering. But he goes with the motion of the ocean--that is, the tug. How easy it would be to snap that delicate, creamy neck of hers, but not before he finds out more about this mystery woman. Is it the annoyingly continuous target of SHIELD she's referring to?

"Just who the fuck are you with?" He snarls before grabbing her with his free hand; fingers close around her wrist again, squeeze like the ones around her neck, and twist to force her grip free.

No; she's most likely with some covert group unrelated to SHIELD completely. Just another enemy of Mother Russia and Hydra. Those are neverending, and as such, neverendingly hunted especially by Bucky. He curls his ankle around hers, foot ready to pull and maneuver her around for a face full of snow this time.

"Somebody unimportant, apparently, to send the likes of you."

(no subject)

30/9/15 09:00 (UTC)
sillaged: (i'm snipin')
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
He lets go immediately - has to with the pain that radiates from his knee. Tears almost freeze to his thick eyelashes as he stumbles back and reaches again for the previously-abandoned knife.

He tries to lunge forward and ends up barely tearing through her jacket with a loud rip.

"Not manhandling you didn't work so well earlier when you got cheeky."

His stomach is still sore - along with everything else. Nothing like a good fight to get warmed up for what he should've done in the first place: ditch the girl, finish his mission, then get the fuck back to his superiors.

What the fuck is happening?

too lazy to italics ;)

4/10/15 02:52 (UTC)
sillaged: (Default)
Posted by [personal profile] sillaged
Agile fingers twirl his knife again as he stares her down. He's so irritated and angry, not as much at her as himself.

He's a constant test subject, and knowing he's flawed... all of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Which he's pretty sure wasn't the plan.

"[Yes, I forgot how far my manners got me last time. I thought it'd treated you so right, too.]"

Cocky smirks are his specialty, even though his eyes are hard as diamonds.

He steps closer, eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out the type of accent underlies her Russian. Not American - that's familiar to him somehow - but something else.

If he only could place it, he'd be able to identify the possible agencies she's with.

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